Patterns & Fairytales
by LolaBleu
Summary: Every conversation they had about kids ended in his saying 'someday, maybe' and really meaning 'no', and her nodding in agreement in a vague sort of way. But Tobias didn't miss the times Tris looked at Zeke's daughter like she was trying to imagine her with deep blue eyes and dirty blonde hair when she thought no one was looking.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Well, what can I say? This little plot-bunny was clogging up the next chapter of _Three Parts Dead_. I have toyed around with the idea of Tris and Tobias having a baby, but I just have a really hard time thinking Tobias would be over-the-moon about it if it happened accidentally. But the only way to get it out of my head was to write it, so here you go. If I continue this I promise to give you a happy ending because I'm sappy for fictional babies :)

And a special _Thank You_ to jandjsalmon and Wee Kraken who very graciously beta'd this.

* * *

"How's Tris?" Zeke asks as he sets down the plateful of lunch he's got in one hand and the daughter he's got in the other. Most days Tobias gets a side order of toddler babble and the occasional tearful tantrum with his meals in addition to his best friend.

"Fine," Tobias says around a mouthful of hamburger, more interested in making a funny face at Zoey than answering the desultory question.

"What was wrong with her?"

Tobias' eyes snap up, suddenly interested. "What are you talking about?"

"She fainted at work this morning... Uriah took her to the infirmary... any of this ringing a bell?" Zeke reels off, eyebrows inching higher with each statement, a look of disbelief on his face.

For a second Tobias sits there with his mouth gaping, and then he's up and out the door like a shot. Zeke shakes his head, hopes they have an empty bed in the infirmary for Uriah considering the ass kicking he's surely going to get.

Zoey takes advantage of her daddy's distraction, decides lunch would be a lot more interesting if she played with it first. "What are you doing kid? Those are mashed potatoes, not Play-Doh," he sighs. He can't help smiling back when she grins up at him devilishly.

xxxx

The walk through the Pit gives Tobias enough time to build up into a towering temper. When he bursts through the swinging doors of the infirmary and comes face-to-face with Uriah he's ready to rip the swizzle stick he's got hanging from his mouth out and shove it up his nose.

"You forget to tell me something?" Tobias seethes, getting right in his face.

"Nope."

Tobias would have been jealous of Uriah, but his relationship with Tris has always been so clearly that of siblings it made the idea laughably absurd. Uriah though, was more infuriating than Caleb ever was, especially when he tried to interfere like he knew Tris better than Tobias did.

"Where is she?"

Uriah puts down the cup of coffee he's holding, freeing his hands in case he needs both of them. "She shouldn't have to give up anything to be with you," he says coldly. He doesn't miss the confusion in Tobias' eyes, though it does nothing to quell the hostility filling the air between them.

Before it can come to blows Uriah pushes his way past walks out; Tris doesn't need her boyfriend and her best friend getting into a fist fight after the morning she's had.

It takes another five minutes and two nurses to track down Tris. The sight of Tris in a hospital bed, looking clammy and pale, is like a punch to Tobias' gut; the concern he left at the lunch table hitting him full force now. "What's wrong with her?" He chokes out.

The nurse next to him rolls her eyes. "Nothing. She's pregnant." When the stricken look on his face only intensifies she backs out the room and closes the door softly because clearly, everything is wrong.

Tobias collapses into a chair, head in his hands. Really it's the only thing to do when your world spins off it's axis. He is at least thankful Tris is out cold and therefore unable to bear witness to his silent breakdown. Of course if she was awake he'd probably be screaming at her, lashing out in fear. And he is afraid, terrified, more than he's ever been in his life.

At least until Uriah's words come floating back to him, bringing the meager handful of conversations he and Tris had about kids with them. They'd all ended in his saying 'someday, maybe' and really meaning 'no', and her nodding in agreement in a vague sort of way. But he didn't miss the times she looked at Zoey like she was trying to imagine her with deep blue eyes and dirty blonde hair when she thought no one was looking.

And though Tobias would never admit to anyone he is panic stricken at the idea that if it comes down to him or the baby, he wouldn't be Tris' choice. And it's that more than anything that makes his decision. He reaches out, lays a hand across her stomach, acknowledging his fears and then pushing them away, ignoring them like he has always done.

The future doesn't look very bright, but then again it didn't when they were both locked up in Erudite, and they survived that. And if they can survive that, they can survive a baby, he hopes.

There's a weak smile that doesn't reach Tobias' eyes when Tris stirs awake. It's gone as soon as her tears start. By the time he's sitting on the bed with his arms wrapped around her the floodgates are open and she's sobbing into his shirt, apologies spilling past her lips.

The knowledge that she had probably forbidden Uriah from telling him anything because she was afraid of his reaction eats away at him, so when she hiccups the last of her tears away and whispers, 'what are we going to do?' he's feeling guilty as shit.

"Do you want to keep it?"

She's quiet for so long Tobias would think she has passed out again if she wasn't trembling against him. "Yes," she says finally.

He kisses the top of her head, rubs a soothing hand up her back. "Then we'll keep it."

"You're not okay with this," she says tremulously.

"No. But I will be."

* * *

So far the exhaustion is the worst part of being pregnant. A creeping thing that pounces sometime around mid-afternoon and doesn't let Tris go until it's sated the next morning. More than once she's fallen asleep with her head bowed over her desk, random memo's stuck to her cheek when she snaps awake.

There is a little morning sickness, but that has more to do with certain scents making her gag than anything else. As long as she doesn't smell vinegar or coffee or rotting trash her breakfast stays in her stomach. And there is the nice upshot that she is finally developing some curves.

But it's Christina who first floats the idea that maybe her constant need for sleep is her bodies way of dealing with stress. Even if Tris will never admit to it, Christina's Candor-trained eyes are enough to see that her best friend is far from happy.

Of course years of Dauntless and war have made her realize bold-faced honesty isn't always the best way to make your point. "You know you've had beef stew for lunch every day for like, three weeks," she points out.

"It's the only thing that sounds good," Tris shrugs, taking a bite between figuratively pushing paper across her desk.

"Maybe your body just needs the protein and iron, so that's why you're craving it all the time."

"Maybe." Tris is barely paying attention; the message she's composing to Johanna explaining that she will no longer be the liaison between Dauntless and Amity taking up most of it.

"It could be why you're sleeping all the time too. Stress would hurt the baby, so your body just shuts down, protects itself."

"What is _that_supposed to mean?" Tris snaps, finally diverted from the task at hand.

"I'm just saying... Tobias hasn't exactly been enthusiastic and I can tell it's affecting you, that's all."

Tris glares at her for a second and turns back to her letter, fingers pounding on the keyboard with unwonted force.

It is true that the silence that has settled between her and Tobias since they found out she was pregnant is weighing on her, worrying her really because he has disappeared behind the self-protective walls she thought he had knocked down since Marcus died.

She feels alone. Alone and scared of what the future holds and that is smothering the happiness she should be feeling. But she isn't going to talk to Christina about it. Talking about it makes it hurt, makes it real in a way she'd been hiding from.

"Is he going with you to the doctor tomorrow?"

"I didn't ask him to."

"It's your first prenatal visit, Tris. He should go."

Tris sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose because the whole conversation is giving her a headache. "Either he's stressing me out or he's not. If it's going to hurt more than help why do you think he should go?"

"Because you shouldn't have to do this alone. It's his baby too, and he needs to step up."

"It's so much more complicated than that, Christina."

"No, it's really not," she scoffs. She wants to tell Tris that Tobias isn't the first kid to be beat up and beat down by his parents. She wants to tell her that using it as an excuse to be a jerk is cowardly, that letting it affect his girlfriend and unborn child is just continuing the cycle of abuse. She wants to tell her that he should know neglect is just as damaging as a belt or a fist.

But sometimes the only way you can tell someone something is by letting them figure it out themselves. So instead she clears away the dirty plates and leaves Tris with a cup of yogurt for later and a promise that she'll go to the doctor with her if Tobias won't.

* * *

Tris doesn't bother telling Tobias about the doctors appointment, despite Christina's meddling. The only reason he knows about it at all is because he saw it jotted down in her day-planner. It felt like a slap in the face. She is keeping secrets again, just like she did after killing Will and almost dying.

And seeing that appointment written in Tris' spiky hand - something she had no intention of telling him about - made the first conversation he had with Evelyn after her 'death' come back with perfect clarity. When she begged Tobias to let her back in, to be a family again, he told her that was a luxury she forfeited when she left him with a monster. As he walked away her sobs echoed harshly off the rusting hunks of metal in the railyard, chasing him out and begging him to return at the same time.

Knowing that he isn't treating Tris much better by never mentioning the baby and finding every excuse to work late and rise early makes him desperate to make it up to her. So when she walks through the door of the Infirmary, followed closely by Christina, he is waiting for her.

Tris stops dead in her tracks, shock crossing her face before she shoots her friend a suspicious glare. "I had nothing to do with this," Christina says hastily, holding her hands up in surrender.

There's an awkward moment where none of them are quite sure what to do, broken only when Tobias cautiously wraps an arm around Tris' narrow shoulders and guides her to a chair, an errant 'thank you' thrown over his shoulder to Christina that's more dismissal than anything else.

"What are you doing here, Tobias?" Tris murmurs as she starts flipping through the pages of paperwork she has to fill out.

"I can leave, if you want."

She doesn't lift her face from the clipboard in her lap, but he can see her eyes tighten in pain. "I want you to be here because you want to be here."

"I do."

She spares him an incredulous glance and starts scribbling out her medical history.

Contrition has never been his forte, but he's willing to give it a try because he is at least self-aware enough to know he's earned her skepticism over the last few weeks. He gently pulls the clipboard out from under her hand, forcing her to look at him. "I want to be here, for both of you."

His apology is cut short by a stern looking nurse calling Tris to an exam room. He's not sure if he's allowed to go with her, but he follows her all the same. If nothing else being one of his faction's leaders should grant him admission.

The nurse is coolly efficient, professional, and it soothes the jitters Tris is feeling. Once she's been measured and weighed, blood pressure and temperature noted, and medical history collected the nurse leaves her with instructions to put on the paper top and skirt so the doctor can give her a pelvic exam along with her physical.

"Can you... wait outside?" Tris asks, embarrassment flushing her cheeks. "I don't want you to be here for this," she says from behind her hand. The idea of Tobias being within fifty feet of her while she's got a doctor feeling up the most intimate parts of her is mortifying. "You can come back in once the physical is over. Just... trust me, you don't want to see this."

He bites back the sarcastic retort that he's probably more familiar with those parts of her than she is, and withdraws to wait patiently in the hallway. Ten minutes after a matronly looking doctor goes into the room the door cracks open and she calls him back in. The door shuts with a nearly inaudible click.

"I'm Dr. Gonzales," she says, shaking his hand as he sits down next to the exam table.

"Tobias."

"So, do you have any questions for me?" She looks up from where she's squirting jelly on Tris' abdomen. "Most first time dad's do."

He swallows thickly. It's the first time someone's called him a father, and he has to fight the urge to flee. His mouth is dry and his tongue is swollen, but he does have one question. "She doesn't look pregnant." At the look Tris gives him he's quick to defend himself, but all he does is dig himself deeper into the hole. "What? You don't. I thought you'd be... bigger."

The doctor gives a little laugh. "Well, let's see how far along she is before we talk about that."

The room goes silent as she runs the plastic wand back and forth over the barely-there bump pushing up between Tris' hips. Lines of shadow and light fill the small computer screen next to the exam table, and a tense minute later they get their first look at the baby.

Tris holds a shaking hand over her mouth, the other clutched firmly in Tobias'. Neither of them remember reaching for the other, but they do. A few taps on the keyboard and a small printer spits out of a picture of what's on the screen.

"She's nine weeks along. She won't gain much weight in your first trimester, maybe five pounds." He hears himself thank the doctor, too focused on the picture Tris is now holding in her free hand.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Tris asks.

"We won't know that for a few more months. The baby is only a few inches long right now; we can't see details until it gets bigger. The nurse will be in, in a few minutes to draw blood for testing," she says as she stands up, peeling off her latex gloves with a snap. "If you have any questions don't hesitate to come see me."

For the first time in weeks Tobias isn't consumed by fear and doubt, and the anger they bring with them. He walked down to the infirmary weighed down by dread, but now he feels light, happy. It's an unexpected emotion, and once Tris' blood is drawn and she's redressed he smiles at her for the first time in weeks. All those dark things are still there, circling and ready to strike, but the conflict raging inside of him has been drowned out, at least for an afternoon anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** So... I was not happy with this chapter. At all. So I reworked it because I already have the next few chapters mostly written and I LOVE them. So, sorry for necessitating the re-read. And using "so" so much.

* * *

It's dark and cold by the time Tobias leaves the Hub with contingent of Dauntless. They crowd into the train car, grateful to finally escape the bickering between factions that had dominated their day. The rest of them shout over the rattle of the train and the cry of the wind, blowing off steam by complaining just as loudly as the people they left behind, but Tobias sits off by himself just wanting peace and quiet and Tris.

When his feet hit the pavement outside the Pire he automatically looks up, hoping to see light shining from their window, but knowing the specially treated glass keeps everything a uniform graphite gray no matter what's going on behind it.

He doesn't expect Tris to be awake, but she is, and even just seeing her sitting up in bed clutching a mug of peppermint tea eases some of the tension out of his muscles. "You should be asleep," he chastises as he sits down in front of her, but there's no weight behind it. He's glad she's up, glad this is how he gets to end his day.

"I was, but I woke up and you still weren't home and I was worried."

He doesn't tell her not to worry because they would be meaningless words. The city is still dangerous, and she knows as well as he does that there have been ambushes and attacks as people move around it.

But he doesn't tell her not to worry because he's selfish too, because he likes that she does. Her worry for him makes his heart swell and his throat constrict. And it makes him grateful. Grateful that she loves him enough to worry about him, that it keeps her up at night, that if something happened to him it would affect her as deeply as it would him if the tables were turned.

He leans forward and cradles one cheek in his while nosing at the other, brushing a kiss across it before trailing his lips down to mumble, "I'll always come back to you," against her neck, leaving out the part that follows which is, 'even if it's in a bodybag'.

"I missed you today," he says when he pulls away. He had spent large chunks of his day zoning out and staring at the wall while thinking about Tris, had even wondered what she was having for lunch when he sat down to his own.

"I missed you too." Her lips curl into a small smile as she says it because as much as he likes being worried about, she likes being missed. "How did it go at the Hub?"

"How it usually goes when I get home this late." He doesn't want to think about it, much less talk about right now. So he does what he's always done on days like this, he loses himself in Tris. "Tell me about your day," he asks as he scoots closer and takes a sip from the cup in her hand.

They've been together long enough that the request is expected. She knows he'll tell her all about his day at some point, but right now what he wants is a story before bed to distract him. So she tells him, including details she finds insignificant that he finds fascinating.

"You really want to know what I had for lunch?" She asks incredulously, but he shrugs and she tells him Christina brought her chicken and vegetables and a big glass of milk. "It's so weird. I hate milk, always have, but it was really good, and when I woke up just now that's what I wanted, but neither of us usually drink it, so we didn't have any."

Tobias reaches out and runs a hand over the small, but defined swell of her stomach, making a mental note to pick up a bottle of milk at the commissary next time he's there. "Maybe it's just because all we had in Abnegation was powdered milk," Tobias offers, but doesn't really think about it much beyond that.

In the few weeks since Tris' doctors appointment Tobias' mood about the baby has changed. There are still moments of sheer, bone-crushing panic, but there are moments like these too where the idea of Tris having his baby stirs something inside of him he didn't think he was capable of.

She stacks her hand on top of his, holding on to him and the warmth it creates inside of her that has nothing to do with the heat radiating off his skin before continuing her story.

Tori came by late in the afternoon to offer her a new job since pregnant girls shouldn't be jumping on and off moving trains and she couldn't really be Dauntless' ambassador to the other factions without physically visiting them. Her replacement knows that the gig is only temporary, but it still makes her sad.

"Managing the kitchen isn't my dream job," Tris says as she leans back against the pillows, feeling sleepy again now that Tobias is home and safe.

"What will you have to do?" Tobias asks as he undresses and crawls under the blankets with her.

"Make up the invoices we send to Amity for food requests, settle staff disputes... stuff like that."

"Do you think the scents will bother you?"

"Tori says I don't have to go in the kitchen if it's a problem. It's mostly an office job anyway, according to her," she says as he settles her against his chest.

Even though it's been years since Tris left Abnegation Tobias knows she still won't sit idly by while there's work to be done, pregnant or not. "You'll be good at it," he reassures her. "If you can deal with the other factions you can deal with the kitchen staff."

"The kitchen staff are armed," Tris quips just to feel a chuckle roll through his chest.

xxxx

Tobias stirs into consciousness. Despite falling asleep exhausted, but relatively happy, he still had bad dreams; not exactly nightmares, but not exactly not nightmares either. It wasn't as bad as it used to be, in fact it was a lot like being his fear landscape; he didn't wake up terrified and thrashing, he woke up because he realized he was dreaming and could wake up. He doesn't remember what it was all about, but the lingering sense of fear and loss and anger as he stares up at the ceiling are a pretty good indicator.

He rolls on his side and pulls Tris against him. Even in sleep she fits a leg between his and nuzzles against him. He won't be able to do this much longer, hold her mostly flush against him. At some point her stomach will get too big and that's more or less the crux of the problem.

He has no idea how to be a parent. It's not like Marcus set a good example, or Evelyn either for that matter. All they did was teach him how to take a beating and run away. And it wasn't like he'd learned anything that would help him since he transferred to Dauntless either.

Tobias smooths a hand over Tris' hair, down her back to her hip, and then under the hem of his shirt that she's wearing to rest against the soft warmth of her skin. She changed him. In the two years they have been together, through initiation and war and the aftermath, she changed him.

But she is strong, stronger than him, stronger than anyone he ever met. Falling in love with her had been more a trial by fire than initiation had been. And it was her strength and bravery had led them through the war, the same way it had led him to jump off buildings and fight off Marcus in his fear landscape.

It was her strength that had sustained him through their time as Erudite lab rats.

Tobias frowns, eyes glazed over as he looks out the window, unseeing. After the takeover of Erudite and they had returned to the Pit he had snapped at Tris one day, asking if he had to knock her up to get her to value her own life. He doesn't even remember what reckless thing she had done to lead to it, but he never expected it to be true.

And it bothers him that it turned out to be true. But it bothers him more that what it makes him feel is jealous. Jealous that she would put her life in danger without a second thought when it was just her and him. Jealous that now that she's pregnant she won't even risk taking a hot bath for fear of hurting the baby. Jealous that he wasn't - isn't - enough for her, but the baby somehow is.

His jealousy feels sharp and cold like a knife to the gut because as much as Tobias is scared of turning into Marcus he's just as scared of Tris leaving him, and she would leave him if she thought he would hurt the baby, of that he has no doubt.

The little boy part of him that cringes and cowers exalts her for it; even if he turns into Marcus she will never be Evelyn. There are other parts of him though, selfish parts that he is ashamed of. The part of him that's jealous of their baby, certainly, but other parts too; parts that need her, that need her needing him.

Tobias pulls her closer, tighter, like he did the night she left him for Erudite. His need isn't enough to keep her. She has to want to stay. He needs her to want to stay, so he'll grasp onto those fleeting moments like earlier where he's happy she's pregnant and the rest of the time he'll just have to fake it until he makes it his reality all the time.

* * *

"So what do you think the odds are that the baby's going to be Divergent?"

Tris' fork stills where it was digging around in her chicken pot pie, her muscles tensing as she waits for Tobias' response to Tori's questioning. Sometimes a question like this would get a warm, expansive answer from him, and other times just surly silence.

"Your Erudite is showing, Tori," Tobias says dryly as he reaches for a bottle of ketchup and Tris breaths a sigh of relief. If he was amused she wouldn't have to deal with Four for the rest of the night.

"I'm serious. You two only had one Divergent parent each, so I think the likelihood is pretty high."

"Hopefully it gets Tris' Erudite Divergence," Zeke says from the other end of the table, earning a smile from Tris and a rude hand gesture from Tobias.

"You know, it's really fascinating, the genetics of it," Christina's boyfriend Michael says dreamily. The Dauntless flames rendered in Erudite blue that fan across his sternum belying his refugee status.

He starts talking about DNA and dominant genes and recessive genes and after a while the only person who's still pretending to be interested in his musings is Christina, but that's just because she loves him.

* * *

The first thing that tips Tobias off that something is wrong is the fact that Tris doesn't call out a greeting to him when she hears the front door close. The second is the wet sniffle from the general vicinity of the kitchen.

He looks over the breakfast bar to see her sitting against the stove, arms wrapped around her legs, crying quietly into her knees. A heartbeat later he's crouched in front of her, hoping she doesn't smack him with the spatula clutched in her hand when he reaches out to her.

Her eyes are red and swollen when she peeks up at him, swiping at the tears on her cheeks with her free hand. "I'm sorry. I just... I was making scrambled eggs and it reminded me of my mom," but that's all she gets out before she chokes on a sob and hides her face again.

Tris knows it's the hormones flooding her brain that's making her so tearful, but that doesn't do anything to stop them. She lets Tobias pull the spatula from her hands and her into his lap to cry against his shoulder.

He honestly doesn't know what to say that's going to make it okay that her mother is dead, so he doesn't say anything at all, just holds her. But as the wet spot on his shirt grows he can't help thinking how unfair life can be. He would gladly have Evelyn trade places with Natalie, and not just because it would make Tris happy.

Tobias only has one solid memory of Natalie Prior and that's from when he met her on Visiting Day. But Tris told him how when she was supposed to die the night of the simulation attack her mother saved her, first from a tank of water, and then by sacrificing herself despite the fact she should have been acting for the 'greater good', even if it did come at the expense of her daughter. She was a mother more than anything else.

"Sorry," Tris says again when she runs out of tears. Her voice is still thick, but it's at least steady.

"You miss your mom; you don't have to apologize for that."

"Without the war I wouldn't really be able to see her anyway - 'faction before blood' -, but I wish I had a picture of her or something, my dad too. I think they would have liked being grandparents."

"Even though the baby's mine?" It still stings that his former faction thinks Marcus was a great and glorious leader... with a lying, traitorous son.

"Especially because it's yours," Tris says as she presses a kiss to his cheek. "You make me happy."

Tobias isn't a masochist so he doesn't point out the fact that he made Tris pretty damn miserable for the week after they found out she was pregnant.

"I was thinking about it earlier... and I wanted to ask you, if maybe... we could use their first names as the baby's middle name? Andrew for a boy, and Natalie for a girl. If you don't want to, that's okay."

Tobias wraps his hand around Tris', raising it up from where it was nervously picking at his shirt to his lips.

"Why wouldn't I want to do that?"

"I don't know. I just thought you might not like the idea."

"No, I think it's a good idea. It's a way for them to be a part of this, even though they can't be here with you. And the baby will at least know it had one set of grandparents worth being proud of."

Tris shifts around, straddling Tobias' legs and his hands instinctively slide up her back, under her shirt. There's a brilliant smile lighting up her face that makes him think he could even stomach using 'Marcus' or 'Evelyn' for a middle name if that's what she wanted. "Thank you."

He pulls her in close, mumbling "you don't have to thank me for it," against her ravens.

Other than the exhaustion the one thing Tris has really come to loathe about being pregnant is the wild mood swings - this afternoons crying jag a case in point -, but she doesn't mind it so much when they swing in a way that makes her ache for Tobias, like it's doing now.

Part of it is just that him kissing her tattoos is something she has always found sexy, and part of it is that it has been weeks since the last time they were together, but there is definitely a part of it that's pregnancy hormones. She's just choosing to ignore that part.

And so is he. Because it _has_ been weeks when they used to only go days, and there's always been something about her being on top even when they're not naked that makes him powerless to resist her.

And he's missed her. It took them a long time to get past her fear of intimacy, and their mutual inexperience, but once they did they couldn't keep their hands off each other. The baby is proof enough of that, but there's nothing that compares to being young and in love, _nothing_.

By the time they realize the hard tile of the kitchen floor isn't the best place for their reunion her shirt is halfway off, and his jeans are halfway down. They aim for the bedroom, but settle for the soft horizontal of the couch.

"You seem happier," she comments afterwards while he's still on his knees between her legs and she's still got her feet propped up on the coffee table behind him. He has seemed happier the last few days, or at least his moods seem more stable.

"Hard not to be after that," he says from where he's laying against her chest.

"That's not what I mean."

It's not and he knows it, but he still smiles at the playful slap she punctuated her words with. "There are still times when I look at you and it scares the hell out of me."

"It scares me too."

Tobias looks up her, surprised. "Really?" He has never even considered that she might be just as afraid as he is, and knowing that she has fears of her own makes him feel less alone.

Her nod is barely noticeable, but her features scream 'ashamed'.

"Why?"

"A lot of reasons. I wasn't ready for this. Not now. I always thought of having a baby as something," Tris frowns trying to find the right words. "Not something that would happen in reality, I guess. When I thought about it, it was always in the future if it happened at all."

_If it happened at all_. The words ring in his ears and he knows it's because of him and his fears that she was willing to give up something she wanted.

"And I worry about something happening to either of us, the baby being an orphan like I am, or something going wrong with the pregnancy."

There are a whole other set of worries though that she doesn't tell him; doubts in the back of her brain that it will last, that he's gotten over his fears. She feels like she's living under the executioners axe sometimes with him, just waiting for it to fall. But for this afternoon she tries to forget them in favor of the reality of him and her a fantasy of the future that doesn't involve tears and heartache**. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I reworked chapter 2, and without re-reading this isn't going to make much sense. Sorry about that, but it had to be done.

* * *

Tris tip-toes from the bathroom to the walk-in closet, careful not to wake Tobias. She closes the door behind her softly and pulls a fresh set of undergarments out of the dresser built into one wall. Her fingers fumble blindly at the clasp of her bra, still learning maneuvers other girls mastered years before because for the first time ever she has need of a real bra.

Once it's firmly in place she turns to face the full length mirror tacked onto the back the door. Old habits die hard and other than the mirror over the bathroom sink it's the only one in their apartment. And as she's done every morning lately she takes in the swell of her stomach, and decides how best to hide it.

Tobias is still a Dauntless leader and somehow that makes their private life public fodder, and since Tris started showing she can't escape people's prying eyes. The best she can do is cover herself up and try to act like everything is normal.

She doesn't like the attention - another hold over, like the mirrors, from her life in Abnegation -, but it would be easier if Tobias was with her on this. The more people congratulate them and ask about the baby though, the surlier he gets. That doesn't bother Tris so much because it annoys her too.

But what does bother her, what hurts and worries her, is the way Tobias is pulling away from her and withdrawing into himself. It's even worse because she knew it would happen. She tried to believe they could have this baby and be happy, but lately her worst fears are proving more true than her fantasies.

Tris won't be able to hide her bump forever, but at least this morning it more or less disappears behind a loose, flowy shirt and a jacket.

Tobias is still asleep when she opens the door, and as much as she doesn't want to poke a sleeping beast she doesn't have a choice. She leans over the bed and shakes him awake. "Hey," she says softly once his eyes peel open. "You've got a meeting, remember?"

"What time is it?"

"Seven. You have time to shower before you go."

Tobias takes in the clothes and bag clutched in her hand. "You're going to work this early?"

"Meeting Uriah for breakfast and then work." She plants a kiss on his forehead, and then she's gone, all thoughts of breakfast together wiped from his mind.

He rolls over and rubs at his face wearily once he hears the front door close, the last vestiges of hope that she would change her mind and come back to him evaporating a minute later. He knows it's his fault she's gone - too many silent, sullen meals lately have driven her away -, but he wishes she'd come back, wishes she needed him.

* * *

"So are you out of your funk yet or do I have to pull another shift with Four?" Zeke asks as he sits down at his desk in the Control Room. "Fine. Be that way," he says when it becomes clear he's not going to get a response.

It's the last thing either of them say for the next eight hours.

"Do you want to go get a beer?" Tobias asks once their shift is over. He expects Zeke to say 'yes', and he does; he's always been slow to anger and quick to forgive.

"So how are things with you and Tris?" Zeke asks once they're seated at a tiny table in one of the bars surrounding the Pit.

Tobias shrugs and tosses back a shot of whiskey before starting in on his beer. "Things are changing."

"You know I have never met two people who are more right for each other than you and Tris, and yet neither of you seem to make it easy on the other." Zeke chuckles into his beer. "Well," he adds, "maybe not so much her, but you? Definitely."

"You think I don't know that?" Tobias snaps.

Zeke cocks an eyebrow at the tone, taking a sip of his beer. "Where's your head at?"

"Marcus." It's at least partially true.

"Why?"

"Are you kidding?" Tobias scoffs, his whole body conveying incredulity.

"Nope. Just because he was your father doesn't mean you're going to be like him. And if anything you know exactly the kind of dad you don't want to be. Besides, You've never hit Tris, have you?"

"When I was under simulation."

Zeke waves off the information with a flippant hand; that hardly counts. "Even if you don't trust yourself, she trusts you."

"If you say so," Tobias says noncommittally.

They switch to other topics for a while, safe topics like work and the world outside the Pire. But with enough alcohol Tobias finally does answer Zeke's question honestly.

"She doesn't _need_ me. It's only a matter of time until she doesn't _want_ me. And honestly, why would she with all my parental baggage bullshit?"

"You can't think that way, man. She loves you. And if she really couldn't handle... your childhood... whatever, she wouldn't have stuck around as long as she has."

"You're lucky, you know, with Shauna. She needs you," Tobias says unthinkingly.

"Yeah, because that's the way to keep the girl you love. Cripple her so she's wheelchair bound and can't leave you," Zeke says, his voice uncharacteristically hard. "That an Evelyn thing? You being scared everyone you love is going to bail on you?"

The two friends glare at each other. They've both hit the others weak spots and they know it.

It's Zeke who breaks first. "Sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No," Tobias says wearily, looking down into his empty glass. "You're right. But it doesn't change things with Tris. I feel like... I don't know... like she's waiting for me to screw up bad enough to give her an excuse to leave." He knows he hasn't been as attentive and supportive as he should be, but she hasn't said anything about it. And her indifferent acceptance of it bothers him; he wants her to demand of it of him, wants to know she cares.

"You're wrong."

"I'm not."

"When Shauna was pregnant with Zoey I felt the same way. It's hard, you know, because they're already in mommy mode, and we're just kinda tagging along through the pregnancy. It's easy to think she doesn't need you, but once the baby's born things change."

Tobias keeps his eyes down, tracing shapes in the condensation dripping off his glass. He doesn't believe Zeke, but doesn't want to fight with him either. "I should get home, it's late."

Zeke drains the last of his glass and follows Tobias to the elevators, wishing him goodnight a few floors below his own apartment.

Tris is asleep as he expected, wearing one of his shirts and curled up around his pillow. There's something about it that makes him unbearably sad, that presses down with a tangible weight on his chest when he lays down next to her, that makes him want to cry for the first time in a long time.

* * *

For reasons Tori has yet to explain she always schedules too much time for meetings, which is why Tobias finds himself with an afternoon to kill while a fill-in mans his desk in the Control Room. He bends his steps towards Tris' office. She's been at her new job a month and he's yet to visit her, but last night he came home and she wasn't, despite the late hour.

And though he'll never admit it to anyone he flew to their bedroom and ripped open the dresser drawers to make sure her stuff was still there, because for a few heart-stopping minutes he thought she had left him. When she came in a little while later she told him she had been shopping with Christina, the bag she was half hiding behind her like it was something illicit, a testament to her story.

The bag had disappeared, though he had a sneaking suspicion if he looked in the closet in the spare room that was going to be the baby's room he'd find it. She had gone right to bed afterwards and he got the distinct impression she was avoiding him. The whole thing scared the hell out of him enough that he decides to do more than pout over the growing distance between them.

The door is open when he gets to her office, but Tris is nowhere to be found. He looks around the room as he waits for her, sure that she'll be back soon because otherwise the door would be locked. He's pretty sure the room was a storage closet at some point, given it's size. The old fashioned metal file cabinets and big desk crammed inside making it seem smaller.

It's mostly free of personal touches, very Abnegation. There is one thing though, a small picture of her and Tobias tucked into the corner between the wall and the computer monitor so Tris can see it while it would be hidden from anyone on the opposite side of the desk. Their black clothes might read as funerary if not for the fact that he's laughing and she's smiling; a perfect, happy couple.

Tobias has got it in his hands, reminiscing about when it was taken when Tris walks in, clipboard clutched against her chest. "Hey," she says, surprised.

His eyes flick from the picture to her, reading apprehension in the tightness of her expression. He wants to kiss it away for a moment before deciding it might not be the best idea. He puts the picture back where it belongs and clasps his hands in front of him, unsure of what else to do. "Hey, I was wondering... if you'd like to go for a walk with me?"

She hovers uncertainly for a moment. There's a delivery of food coming in from Amity later, and she could use it as an excuse, but decides not to. "Yeah, okay," she says with a shrug of her shoulders that is trying to be nonchalant, but it anything but that.

They take the service elevator up to the Pire and cross the glass floor with ease - everyone else is still at lunch in the dining hall. Their destination is a series of empty lots a few block away the Dauntless have turned into something of a park over the years. With April slipping into May the first green shoots of Spring are pushing up between the cracks in the sidewalk, patches of shadow and light intersecting their path from the clouds scuttling across the sky.

Tobias keeps watch on her out of the corner of his eye as they walk, remembering her as she was during initiation; all edges and angles, sleek and strong. She's still slight, still lean, but there's the hint of hips below the swell of her stomach, and the soft curve of cleavage above. She's four months along now and he wonders what she'll look like in a few more months; wonders what she'll look like after the baby is born, if she'll hold on to some softness she's developing.

They settle themselves in the grass on a small rise, the Pire shining in the distance over the tops of the abandoned, crumbling buildings that surround the park. Tris lays back, enjoying the way the sun feels on her face, warm and caressing.

"You never told me what you bought yesterday," Tobias says.

Tris squints up at where he's sitting next to her, a nervous smile curling up the corner of her lips. "It's a little 'build your own Ferris wheel' kit."

"I think it's going to be a while before the baby has the requisite hand-eye coordination for that, Tris," he quips and she scowls. It wasn't particularly funny, but she could at least meet him halfway, and it takes him a minute to suppress his frustration with her before he can speak again. "You're mad at me."

She squints up at him again for a moment before hiding her face in her hands. "What do you want from me, Tobias?" Her words come out slightly muffled behind her fingers, but they're still clear enough.

"I want what I always want: you."

Some things never change, and when things go bad between them, it still goes bad quick.

"Really? Because lately it doesn't feel like it," she snaps. "It doesn't feel like it when you won't talk to me, when you won't touch-"

"You don't talk to me either!"

"Why would I, Tobias, when all I get in response is monosyllables or 'Four'?"

He doesn't have a response for that because he knows she's right.

"I can't," Tris' voice hitches and breaks like it did that day at Marcus' house when he washed her feet and told her he'd be her family now. This time though it makes his heart stop, makes the world stop because of what will come after it. "I can't keep doing this, spending every second worrying how you're going to react to every little thing, worrying that you won't come home, or that you'll find someone else. This is your baby too, and if you want me - want us - act like it."

Tobias sees her shoulders shake and heave, sees her arms wrapped around her body like she's holding herself together as she walks away. Despite the sun shining he feels his fears flocking together, casting a pall across him**.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** 1.) There's swearing. 2.) Things will get worse before they get better. 3.) Reviews make me happy :)

* * *

Uriah stalks between the tables of the cafeteria, looking for Tris and if not her, Tobias. When he finds neither of them he settles for Zeke. "Have you seen Tris?"

"Nope," Zeke answers casually, but freezes when he looks up to see his brother standing in front of him looking thunderous. "What's going on?"

"Christina's worried about her; no one can find her."

"Did you check her office?"

"Yeah, because when I said 'no one can find her', I obviously meant we completely overlooked the places where she normally is," he snarks, eyes still scanning the room for a head of dirty blonde hair.

"You know if you pulled that stick out of your ass you'd be a lot more pleasant to be around."

The glare he receives in response is the same he used to get when they were kids and he'd tease Uriah until he finally snapped and took a shot at him with a clumsy fist.

"You need to get over your big brother complex with her. Stay out of it."

Uriah's eyes snap to his brothers face, hard and furious. "You weren't there that day in Jeanine's office, okay. You didn't see the way Four turned on her at the drop of a hat. I get that he's your friend, but he's being an asshole."

"Let it go, Uri. It's not our business," Zeke says, his voice tired, harassed. He know's Uriah's right, but his meddling isn't going to help.

"She's my friend. That makes it my business," Uriah snaps and stomps out, off to search another part of the compound for Tris.

Zeke watches him go, debating if he should chase him down. Ever since Marlene died Uriah's been fiercely protective of the friends he has left, especially the girls, as if shielding them would bring back the one who was still so demonstrably absent in his life.

* * *

Tris lays awake, staring out the window, across the empty bed, haunted by the key Uriah pressed into her hand when he finally tracked her down.

She didn't even tell him about Tobias and the park and the fight. Perverse as it is she still loves him and doesn't want her friends - _her family_ - to think poorly of him. And maybe there's a little lingering Abnegation that feels guilty for burdening others with her problems when they have ones of their own. But mostly the former, as if it made a difference. Even without knowing what had happened Uriah assumed things were falling apart between her and Tobias and had insisted she take the spare key to his apartment 'just in case'.

It had felt like a betrayal, accepting it.

It felt like a lifeline.

That felt worse.

Her eyes shift to the open bedroom door when she hears Tobias enter, feet falling heavy and clumsy in the way they only ever do when he's been drinking. He doesn't stop until he's perched on the edge of the bed, a hand on either side of her body holding himself up. He smells like the factionless man who grabbed her years ago. She almost flinches away from him when he touches her cheek, her lips, hand flowing down her neck and across the fragile span of her collarbone to rest on her shoulder.

Getting drunk was the quickest way to drown his self-loathing, but he didn't expect the deep ache, the longing that overwhelmed him when his brain kicked up the imagine of Tris walking around Dauntless with a blonde-haired, blue-eyed bundle of joy without him by her side.

He feels trapped between who he was, and is, and who he wants to be. He's been pushing her away on purpose just so she would fight back, prove her loyalty to him. It's something Four would do, not Tobias. At least he hopes so, but he's not entirely sure of that. Either way it's not who he wants to be.

Somewhere at the bottom of the bottle he found the thoughts that had made him happy before, the prospect of the beautiful life Tris was offering him. A life where he had two people who loved him and worried about him when he got home late. A life where he was the father he always wanted his own to be.

The knowledge that everything he was doing was destroying the chances of that propelled him to his feet. His stomach rolls with all the things he wants to say, but sitting and staring into Tris' eyes, grey and stormy with apprehension, keeps them inside.

He bows over her, fitting his face to the crook in her neck, breathing her in. But close as they are he still feels the wall of distrust his actions have built up around her. "I don't want it to be this way," he mumbles into her skin. But her embrace still feels like a farewell, not a homecoming despite the admission.

xxxx

Tris has to wake up early, so Tobias wakes up earlier. He ignores the hangover pounding in his head and makes a pan of scrambled eggs, wishing the whole time he knew how to make something fancier. But with enough milk whipped in they're light and fluffy and frying them up in butter makes them savory in a way they never are in an Abnegation household.

He shakes her awake, and waits until she's pushed the hair out of her face and sleep from her eyes before he hands her breakfast in bed. It's quiet and awkward and she eats timidly, the same way he watches her, unsure of how to handle the morning after.

Stubbornly, Tris refuses to be the first to speak, to acknowledge all the specters surrounding them. She doesn't know what to say anyway, at least nothing that won't just reignite their fight from yesterday.

"Have you thought about what you want to do to the spare room," Tobias says eventually. "I know you said before you didn't want just bare white walls."

Tris cocks an eyebrow at him, chewing slowly as she weighs her response. She had mentioned that in passing and didn't expect him to remember, even less to bring it up apropos of nothing.

"I was kind of hoping Tori could paint something," she says carefully, trying to figure out where Tobias is going with this. "There's no window, but I wasn't going to ask her until we find out the sex of the baby."

"Why?"

Tris shrugs, eats more because it gives her something to focus on other than Tobias. His moods can shift so unexpectedly she's gotten used to walking on eggshells around him. "I just thought it might make a difference to her, whether it's a boy or girl."

She hands him back her empty plate and fusses at the blankets, trying to extricate herself from them. "Thank you, for breakfast," she says stiffly.

Tobias puts his hands over hers, holding her in place, or trying to anyway. He recoils like he's been slapped when she rips her hands out from under his. It was a thoughtless, knee-jerk reaction, but they both go still; Tris fearful of Tobias' response, and Tobias fearing what her response to his touch means.

"I know how I've been acting lately, Tris," he says quietly. He puts his hands in his lap, trying to be reassuring, but mostly just looking wounded. "I just... I meant it last night when I said I don't want to be this way." He wants to tack _please give me another chance_ on the end of that sentence, but it's awfully close to begging and that's not something he's done since the first time Marcus beat him.

* * *

Christina watches suspiciously as Tris shifts around uncomfortably. "Do we need to go shopping again?" She asks, recognizing the symptoms of pants that are a size too small.

"Any excuse to shop, right?" Uriah grumbles as he stabs at his food with unwonted force. Tobias watches him with a look on his face like he wants to rip the fork out of the younger boys hand and embed it in his forehead.

They've been sniping at each other for the last two weeks like puffed of bullies on the playground at lower levels. Uriah refuses to cut Tobias the same slack that Christina has at his newfound dutifulness, and it grates Tobias' last nerve when Uriah tries to butt into his relationship with Tris.

"What? Shopping is fun," Christina says innocently.

"For you."

Christina rolls her eyes. "You're such a boy."

"And you're such a girl," he teases back.

"I love shopping with Tris. She lets me dress her up."

"Like a doll," Uriah deadpans.

"You both realize I'm right here, don't you? Can hear everything you're saying."

"Yeah, we know," Christina says dismissively. "Doesn't change the fact that you need new clothes."

"And knowing you, you've already got them all picked out," Tris says. If there's one good thing about Christina being in charge of the inventory for the stores in the Pit it's that she rarely has to 'shop'; usually Christina just pulls anything she thinks Tris will like. It's a habit that's gone into overdrive since she found out about the pregnancy.

"I might have picked out a few things," she shrugs. "I really think you should start shopping for the baby though. I know you think you have all the time in the world, but-"

"Christina," Tris says snaps, cutting her off and causing scowls all around.

Christina scowls because despite Tobias' seeming repentance Tris is still wary of 'baby talk' around him. Tris at Christina for ignoring her previous warnings about that subject when Tobias is present. Tobias because he knows he's the reason for it all. Uriah's is perpetual lately, no matter what's going on.

The subject doesn't come up again until Tris and Tobias are alone in their apartment. "Christina's right, you know, about getting stuff for the baby," he says quietly as he sits down next to her on the couch to work on his laptop.

Tris' eyes nervously flick up from her book before she glues them back to the page in front of her. "I will once we know if it's a boy or girl. I don't think waiting a few weeks is going to make that much difference." There's a little bit of truth to her statement, but just a little.

Just because Tobias has been ignoring his fears and going through the motions with her doesn't mean everything is alright between them. She doesn't trust it to last, and is hyper-vigilant about anything that might ruin their uneasy truce; bringing stuff into their home that will make the baby seem any more real than it already is definitely falls into that category.

In the silence that falls between them Tobias wonders if there would be any difference between reality and his fear landscape now. He feels like he's living in it more than he ever has. And it's helping a little, submerging himself in baby stuff, making the fear worse so it gets better. The first time they talked about baby names his palms were sweaty and his heart was racing, but by the time they decided on 'Benjamin' for a boy he was calm. A name for a girl is still proving elusive.

But Tobias isn't an idiot. He knows that this peace between them is fragile, and though he knows Tris' insistence on not doing anything to the spare room or buying things they'll eventually need until after they learn the sex of the baby is excuse, he's not going to push her over it. They're finally back in a good place where they're having breakfast together every morning and going to bed together every night and he's already done enough to ruin things without pissing her off over something so small.

By the time he finishes up the memo he's penning for Dauntless to the other faction's leaders Tris has fallen asleep. He fits one arm under her shoulders and the other under the crook of her knees, and carries her to bed. This time, unlike the first time he carried her like this, she's not bruised and battered and he'll fall asleep curled around her protectively like he wanted to do then.

* * *

Tris sits on the exam table, shivering with nerves. Her three and four month doctor's visits felt like an afterthought, no more important than the yearly check-up every Duantless member has. This time is different though because they get to learn if they're having a boy or girl. She's nervous and excited and she doesn't even know what else, but it's making her shake.

Tobias leans across the table, rubbing his hand soothingly up her back, pecking a chaste kiss to her shoulder. Secretly, he's hoping for a girl. A little girl that's all stubbornness and sass like her mom. He doesn't think he can hit a girl, especially one that looks like Tris in miniature. Of course the idea of a boy is enough to send a cold shiver up his spine; it makes the likelihood of history repeating itself feels all too real.

Dr. Gonzales bustles in, looking as matronly and amiable as she did the first time, a welcoming smile curling up her lips. They go through the usual routine of weighing and measuring and _how are you feeling?_ and _do you have any questions or concerns?_ before she hands them a packet of forms and information. "Now that you're five months along we need to start thinking about your 'birth plan' - what kinds of pain medication you want, who will be allowed in the room with you, that sort of thing."

Tobias looks over Tris shoulder at the paperwork she's flipping through, feeling sick at the memory of the birth that 'killed' his mother; fraudulent death of not, her screams of pain were very real.

"These aren't decisions you need to make today," the doctor continues. "But they are important decisions and I like to make sure my patients have plenty of time to come up with a plan they're comfortable with well beforehand so that labor and delivery go as smoothly as possible." Now that the formalities are out of the way, Dr. Gonzales smiles again. "So are you ready to find out if you're having a boy or girl?"

Tris swallows her nerves and lays back, wincing a little as cold jelly hits her bare skin. A moment later they hear the back and forth swish of the baby's heartbeat and Tobias' clenches painfully. All eyes are glued to the computer screen as the doctor positions the wand over Tris' stomach, looking for the right angle to determine the sex as a baby shaped shadow fills the screen.

"Right there," she says as the screen freezes and the small printer under it starts spitting out a picture. "It's a boy. And very healthy looking. Congratulations."

Tobias' heart sinks under the weight of fear for a moment before he lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding and focusing on Tris' beatific smile instead. Once the doctor wipes her clean and says goodbye Tobias helps her sit up, and much to his surprise she wraps her arms around him, nuzzling into his shoulder while her hand slips under his shirt to rest against Amity's tree on his back.

It's been so long since she held him like this, without any invisible walls between them. He didn't realize how much he's been missing it until this moment. He holds her against him, pressing kisses to her cheek until she tilts her head back and lets him fit his lips to hers. The kiss is slow and soft and and loving; all the things their kisses haven't been for months.

xxxx

"How did it go?" Zeke asks as Tobias sits down to lunch with him and Zoey.

"It's a boy." Tobias' voice is a curious mix of bemused and disappointed, and his eyes keep drifting over to the door in the side of the cafeteria that leads to the bowels of the kitchen and Tris' office.

"Congrats," Zeke says as his daughter squirms in his arms. "Baby Girl, did they just feed you sugar all morning at daycare?" She grins up at him with a purple-grape stained smile and pulls him down - by his ear - for a kiss.

He's still wincing and rubbing at his ear when he looks up to see Tobias watching. "Bet that boy's looking better right now," he jokes. "Where's Tris?"

"In her office. Christina shoved me out and slammed the door in my face so her and Tris could talk about all the things she needs to buy without interruption."

Zoey grabs for the sippy cup held in her fathers hand, and a heartbeat later it splatters grape juice across all three of them. Tobias jumps up like he's been burned, but the damage is already done.

"You look like you pissed yourself," Zeke guffaws.

He gets a slap to the back of the head by way of response. Tobias takes it as a good sign that he doesn't want to smack Zoey instead, and that thought makes him feel buoyant all the way up to his apartment for a fresh pair of pants.

He starts digging through drawers. Tris has reorganized the closet and dresser to make room for all the new clothes Christina dumped on her, and he's still having trouble finding things. But he stops dead when he pulls back a pile of neatly folded shirts to find a shiny silver key.

For a moment he just stares at it, mind filling with white noise from all the questions in it. The only one he doesn't entertain is that it might be a key to their apartment; Tris would have no reason to hide that.

He fists his hand around it, soggy jeans and quest for fresh ones completely forgotten. Everyone's still at lunch so he feels relatively safe when he tries to fit it into the lock on Christina and Michael's front door. It doesn't open. He takes the elevator a few floors up, and tries it in Uriah's. It's a perfect fit.

When Tris walks into their apartment hours later, the last rays of sunset turning the walls orange and red, and Tobias is sitting on the couch, a study in barely contained fury.

"What the fuck is this?" He spits out, holding the key up for her to see.

Tris draws a shaky breath. Her brain is screaming, but she can't make her mouth work, can't push the plea for understanding past her lips. It doesn't matter, he's not in a mood to be reasoned with.

"I suppose I should just be glad you didn't have to fake your death to be rid of me," he says coldly and walks out, dropping the key on a pile of broken frames that used to contain pictures of them in happier times. She jumps at the sound of the door slamming shut behind him, at the finality of it.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not. If you hate this chapter, this is the high point of the division between Tris and Tobias, so there's that. I loved writing it. I did want to say thanks for all the reviews and favourites and follows; they're great incentive to keep writing. **

* * *

_By the time this pregnancy is over I'm going to be an alcoholic_, Tobias thinks to himself, downing another shot.

He's still so pissed off at Tris, even through the whiskey and beer haze. Nothing really seems to be helping that though. He rode trains until the sun went down trying to clear his head; beat on a punching bag until his knuckles were swollen and raw trying to drain away the anger. None of it worked so he tried to drown it in booze. That isn't helping either; it's just making his stomach fester and rot like his brain.

When the bartenders start wiping down tables and putting the chairs up for the night he slips off his stool, stumbles out the door. He's not sure if he wants to go home, if he even has a home to go to. And he's not sure if Tris is the last person he wants to see or the only one. His stomach rolls unpleasantly when he steps off the elevator, but it's not the alcohol that's making him sick.

The apartment is dark, but he can see her on the couch, curled onto her side, fast asleep. He could tiptoe to the bedroom, hope that both of them have calmed down in the morning. But he's drunk and furious so he slams the door loud enough to wake her up.

"Shouldn't you be at Uriah's by now?" He asks as she sits up and pushes the hair out of her face.

There's an apology perched on her tongue, but she swallows it back down in favor of something else. "I should have given the key back," she says flatly.

"You shouldn't have taken it in the first place."

"I shouldn't have needed it in the first place," she snaps, pushing herself to her feet to get in his face. Pregnant or not, wrong or not, him coming home drunk and acting like this is the final straw.

"Do you really think you're fooling anyone? I mean, _anyone_? Because it's not just Uriah giving me his key. _Everybody_ has been waiting for you to bail. _Everybody_ can see that you're just going through the motions." The scent of liquor on him is enough to turn her stomach, but she doesn't back down. "_Everybody_, Tobias, not just me. _I'm_ the one who has to live with it though. _I'm_ the one who has to walk around on eggshells pretending this," she smooths a hand over her stomach, "doesn't exist."

Tobias lips curl up cruelly. "It doesn't matter how hard I try, I just can't win with you can I?" He sneers. "You've just been waiting for me to screw up bad enough so you have an excuse to leave. Now you have it." He doesn't tell her to leave though, doesn't say the actual word because as pissed off as he is, it's the last thing he wants, even if he'll never admit it to himself.

"You're so... incredibly full of shit," she breathes out. Tris can count the times she's cussed on one hand, but sometimes the situation calls for it. This is one of those times. "I'm looking for an excuse to leave? Me?" Her voice goes up a little with each question until she's yelling the last one. "Are you kidding me!?" She takes a deep breath, trying to calm down and not tear apart her throat screaming at him like she really wants to do. "You know what? You want to blame me? Fine! Blame me! I don't care anymore!"

She stomps off to the bedroom flicking on lights as she goes. She can feel Tobias following her which does nothing to quell her anger. "You know what I think? I think you've been pushing me away, hoping I would leave so you wouldn't have to, so you wouldn't look like the bad guy," she yells as she rips open drawers and pulls clothes off the hangers.

He grabs her by the arm stopping her in her tracks. It's as close to a 'don't go' as he's going to get, but it's too little, too late. "You never wanted this baby, Tobias," she says coldly as she tries to pull her arm from his grip.

He doesn't say anything because it's the truth. It's always been about her. He's always wanted her and he's been willing to play along as long as it meant keeping her, but there's no denying it now.

When he doesn't let go she shoves him, hard. It's enough to send him reeling backwards and if anyone else did it they'd walk away bloody, but she's still Tris and he's never been able to hit her, though clearly he has hurt her. She wants to say something horrible and cutting, but she can't make the words come out so she leaves before the tears pooling in her eyes finally spill across her cheeks.

And she makes it all the way to Uriah's before they start falling. She has to bang on his door for a while to wake him because it's late and the fight wiped something as trivial as that from her mind. When he answers he's rubbing sleep from his eyes, but it's not unexpected either so they can forgo the whole 'what are you doing here?' and 'what happened?' which is good because keeping her lips pinched shut is the only way Tris is keeping the sobs at bay.

"You can take the bed," Uriah offers.

"I'm not making you sleep on your couch," she says, lips trembling and voice hitching up in odd places.

"Take the damn bed, Tris." He gives her a little nudge towards the hall that leads to the bedroom and bathroom and goes into the kitchen to put the kettle on. By the time he walks in with a steaming mug of mint tea she's under the covers, knees pulled up so she can bury her face in them. There are wet patches on the blanket when she looks up at him, wiping her nose.

"Thanks," she says weakly. She's not at all hungry, but it seems rude to tell him that, so she accepts the cup.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't even want to think about it." She looks around, taking in the spare furnishings until her eyes land on a framed picture of Marlene sitting on the nightstand.

"It was taken the year before initiation," Uriah says, picking it up and handing it to her.

"I forgot how pretty she was."

A sad, wistful smile spreads across his face. "She was beautiful."

She hands the photo back, and the his hands are so loving and reverential when he reaches for it, it makes her heart break for him. It's been two years since the war, and even though there seems to be a revolving door of girls in and out of Uriah's apartment he's never done more than sleep with any of them.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Tris picks at the blanket nervously, trying to figure out a way to phrase her question that has the least chance of offending him. "Do you ever think," she says slowly, "you'll have a family?" She refrains from saying anything along the lines of 'meet someone new' or 'fall in love again' because even though the implication is there, it seems cruel to say the words.

"Someday, maybe," he says noncommittally. He's looking at the picture in his hands and she can't help wondering if it's so she doesn't see the tears in his eyes that she can hear in his voice. "All these girls... I'm just looking for her, again. No one says it, but we all know it; I know it. I think about it, all the time, what it would be like if she was still here. Maybe someday I'll stop... but she's still the only one I want."

"I'm sorry, Uriah," Tris says quietly, feeling guilty that she didn't save Marlene on top of everything else.

"It's not your fault," he says sharply. He shakes himself, forcing a smile as he looks at Tris. "Your name isn't Jeanine is it?" He jokes. "Get some sleep." She lets him peck a kiss to the top her head just like her mother and father used to do when she was little and upset, and then he's gone.

He takes the picture with him when he leaves.

Tris turns the light off and curls up on her side. This is why she couldn't go to Christina. The idea of living with her and Michael, of having to watch the two of them being happy and in love when she's alone and miserable is enough to make sick. Of her friends only Uriah would understand what it's like to be alone like this.

_Alone_, echoes in her head and that's when the tears start. And once the first one falls she can't stop the rest cascading out. She's alone and pregnant. No parents, no brother, no Tobias. And for a moment she's happy she's having a boy, hopes he has his father's eyes. It's all she has left.

* * *

When Tobias wakes up the first thing he's aware of is pain, in his head and in his stomach. The next thing he's aware of is the sticky puddle of foul smelling vomit he's laying in. The room spins as he pushes himself up. He stumbles to the shower, turns on the water, and slumps under the spray, clothes still on.

And it takes him a minute to remember what all lead to this, but when he does he doesn't feel anything. He knows he should feel something, maybe something similar to what he felt in those horrible minutes in Erudite when he thought Tris was dead, but still... nothing. He feels hollow and empty, like he threw up everything inside of him.

He stays under the spray until the water turns cold and he can't stop shaking. He shuffles to the door of the bedroom, dripping a trail of water the whole way. His eyes land on the puddle of sick on the floor before they bounce to the bed. It's still made, never been slept in. He leaves his clothes to leak on the tile.

The closet is still in a state of disarray, and he keeps his eyes down, ignoring the the mess as much as he can. He goes through the motions; gets dressed and drinks coffee and takes the elevator down to the Control Room. When Zeke walks in and tells him he looks like shit he can't even find the motivation to shrug it off.

Zeke doesn't ask him if he's okay because that would be in the number one slot of stupid questions to ask right now, and he doesn't ask either what happened because clearly something went down with Tris; it's the only time his best friend breaks like this. He does ask though, if he wants to talk about it while they walk down to the cafeteria for lunch. The only answer he gets is a shake of the head.

He offers a desultory greeting to Christina as they walk across the hall towards the lunch line, but she only has eyes for Tobias. A second later she's screaming obscenities at him in front of the entire faction, her Candor honesty on full display and the Dauntless displaying a level of quiet attention that hasn't been seen since Eric got shot in the head.

In less than a minute everyone in the compound knows exactly what happened between Tris and Tobias and the latter is looking at the girl in front him with a quiet fury that has Zeke putting himself in between the two. Violence is commonplace, but he knows that a leader beating someone to death in the middle of the cafeteria wouldn't go over well.

But Zeke isn't expecting Christina to hit him so when she lands an elbow right in his kidney he crumples enough to allow her access to the person she really wants to hit. And she does. The flat packing sound of a fist hitting flesh echoing around the room like a gunshot, even over her shrieking.

Tobias glares her for a minute, and everyone waits with bated breath to see what he's going to do. And somewhere in that minute he finds that anger he thought he puked up on the bedroom floor. It burns through him, dessicates every good thing he spend years building, every good thing that Tris loved in him.

That's when he lunges for her.

Zeke stops him with a shoulder to the chest, knocking the wind out of him, and literally drags him out. He considers it a minor miracle that Christina's boyfriend materialized at some point and held her back too because if she had followed the fight would have ended in the infirmary.

The sound of their apartment door slamming shut has Shauna rolling out to see what's going on. She watches from the doorway as Zeke pulls an ice-pack out of the freezer and hands it to Tobias who's sporting a brilliant black eye.

"What happened to you?"

"Christina clocked him," Zeke grumbles, prodding at his side experimentally and finding it painfully tender.

"What did you do?" The accusation and certainty is clear in her voice. She doesn't really need him to answer; it's been obvious for ages that things were spiraling between him and Tris no matter how much everyone tried to ignored it.

"Shauna," Zeke says warningly.

She waves him off, trapping Tobias where he stands with her gaze. "Fix it," she snaps haughtily and rolls back to Zoey's bedroom and the pile of laundry she has to put away.

"Perfect," Tobias spits out. "You know if your douche-bag brother and everybody else minded their own business I wouldn't have to fix anything."

Tobias helps himself to the beer in the fridge, draining half of one before he starts venting about Uriah and Christina and eventually Tris. Zeke doesn't stop him because sometimes you need to give voice to the bitter, unpleasant thoughts in your head, and really that's what friends are for; listening to you at your worst and still liking you afterwards. So he lets him.

xxxx

Tris paces back and forth in her tiny office, horrified, terrified, everything in between. "What were you thinking?" She hisses, turning on Christina.

"I was thinking your boyfriend's an asshole," she says nonchalantly.

"And somehow ripping his head off in front of an entire faction is going to change that?"

"Maybe," she shrugs.

Tris falls into her chair, hiding behind her hands, praying that when she reemerges this will all just go away. There won't be a person in Dauntless who isn't gossiping about this, even if Tobias wasn't a leader. No matter where either of them go people will be whispering behind their backs about it. For a second she wishes she could just go home, back to Abnegation, where people kept their mouths shut.

"I am sorry, Tris," Christina says after a while. "Old habits, I guess."

"Yeah," Tris laughs mirthlessly before groaning and leaning her head against her desk. "Could this be any worse?"

"We could be dead."

"There's always that." It's funny because it's true.

xxxx

He knows as soon as he opens the apartment door that Tris isn't there. There is a part of Tobias - the part that wants her to fight for him no matter how awful he is - that hoped she would come home.

The place has a sinister air to it, like the scene of a murder, like ghosts are lurking in the shadowy corners. He slams the door shut and goes down to the Pit, to the bar, to the stool that's his new best friend.

He drinks until the place closes, but it doesn't make him feel any better, and the more of the bottle that ends up in his stomach the more enraged he becomes. He thinks about Tris, about how it was, and how it should be, and he _hates_ that baby for ruining everything, and he hates her for picking it instead of him.

* * *

The first week he drinks every night. Sometimes he wakes up in their apartment, but never in the bed, always on the floor or on the couch; mostly he crashes in the Control Room. He refuses to talk to Tris and goes out of his way to avoid any public place where he might run into her. This is all her fault, for taking the key, for not giving it back, for pushing him away when he was trying so, so, hard.

The second week she's still the girl who broke his heart and is ruining his life, but there are slivers of self-loathing piercing his anger and he knows that they both made mistakes. But still, she was the one who ran away, and he's not going to go crawling back to her, begging, again. And now, the rage is kindled by her indifference because as much as he's been ignoring her, she's been ignoring him too.

By the end of the week he cracks a little and takes his bottle to the bottom of the Chasm, and halfway through he runs a hand over the spot she always used to sit, right next to him. He kissed her here for the first time. He thought maybe one day he'd propose to her here, and he thought about it a lot, even went to look at rings once, but his fears always stopped him.

Even over the roar of the Chasm he can hear her laugh, light and tinkling like her mother's. He looks up to see her walking through the Pit, surrounded by friends who are trying their best to cheer her up. He knows he has Zeke and Tori and other friends he could turn to, but right now he just feels alone. Completely, profoundly alone because she's gone and she's never coming back. She doesn't need him, or want him, and one day she'll stop loving him and it _hurts_.

He finishes the bottle and lurches to his feet, winding his way through the disused corridors of Dauntless until he finds his destination. It was probably a storage room at some point, but it hasn't been used in years. In fact it's supposed to be empty now, but it's not. Shoes are lined up against one wall, belts coiled up and stuffed inside of them. The whole place smells like dust and sweat and blood, and even though it's relatively early there's already a bare-knuckle boxing match going on in the center of the room.

The men crowded inside take a step back when Tobias steps up to the ring. The leadership have always turned a blind eye to these fights even though they're technically not allowed under Dauntless laws, but having a leader show up in their midst gives everyone pause. He looks around the room and picks out the biggest, cockiest fighter there is, calling him into the ring.

This is a pain that he's used to. This is a pain he can deal with.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Ugh... writing break-ups is so much easier than writing the process of getting back together, and this chapter is more set up for that than anything else. But hey! Thank you, thank you, thank you for the wonderful reception of the last chapter. I really didn't think it would be as well received as it was. I was glad to be proven wrong, and all those reviews were great motivation to get this chapter finished. **

* * *

Tris closes the door to Uriah's apartment, breathing a sigh of relief that their schedules mean she doesn't have to see him morning, noon, and night. It's nice not living alone, but if he got off work at the same time she did he would hear her crying herself to sleep every night and that is something she would rather keep private.

Between the depression and the pregnancy hormones it took her weeks to confine her crying to just that, though she'll probably have to replace Uriah's pillows at some point since they're getting crusty in the constant deluge of salt water. But as long as no one talks to her about Tobias directly she can hold it together until she gets home, most of the time anyway. There's still gossip burning through Dauntless like wildfire, but in the weeks since Christina screamed at Tobias in front of everyone it's evolved into uncreative fiction, though she wishes it would stop entirely.

The baby isn't helping matters. The first trimester was unpleasant, certainly, between the exhaustion and morning sickness, but the second trimester is worse. She's still tired, and occasionally some scents will make her stomach churn, but mostly she in pain; swollen, tender, breasts; constant aches from her feet to her lower back that can't seem to be ignored or alleviated; and her balance is starting to slip, her body moving uncertainly with the weight she's gaining.

It all adds up and she feels like it's wearing her down. Tris isn't sure if she believes in God - religion was never a big part of her upbringing -, but as she slips between the blankets she prays for something good to happen, just one little going right so she can cling to it. But of course that just brings Tobias to the forefront of her thoughts.

'Hurt' and 'anger' seem too small to describe what she feels. She knows it's for the best that he hasn't tried to see her or talk to her since she left, clutches to the idea that a clean break is be better the drawn out back-and-forth they were doing. But it still hurts that he doesn't love her the way she loves him, because that's still a present tense, not past. It won't last forever, at some point they'll run into each other, but the thought that leaves her gasping and sobbing and balling her hands into fists is that happening after the baby is born, of maybe having to one day explain to him who his father is and that he wasn't wanted.

* * *

It used to be that when Tobias was feeling particularly masochistic he would go into his fear landscape. Since he is pretty much living it he has to find something else, and he has, sort of.

There's the drinking from the second he clocks out of the Control Room to the time the bars close, the hostile air of _go fuck yourself_ he wears keeping the whispers around him, about him to a minimum. Then there's the fighting to drain out all that rage, transforming his pain into something he knows how to deal with. It doesn't even matter to him if he wins the fights or not; he's probably lost most of them, if he really thinks about it. None of that is really masochistic though, that's just what he does so he doesn't have to think about the shit storm he's turned his life into.

It's not until after that, until the time when he should be going home to Tris, when he should be wrapping himself around her and falling asleep that the torture really starts. He calls up the footage from the surveillance cameras dotted throughout Dauntless and though it doesn't exactly make him omniscient, he can watch Tris from the moment she steps out of Uriah's apartment in the morning until the moment she goes back to it at night on the recordings without too much interruption.

The pain it inflicts is so much sharper than the cuts and bruises mottling his skin. He likes to think that the cinching ache around his lungs has more to do with fractured ribs than actual feelings, but it's hard to ignore the way he can't breathe as all the moments she was his blossom into a field of memories while he watches her in grainy black and white. He feels like he's drowning, like he can't pull in a breath no matter how hard he tries, like his lungs are too weak or the air is too thick and all he can think about is Tris.

She isn't happy, he can see that, and sometimes that pleases a petulant side of him because he isn't happy either and it's comforting to know she gives a shit, but then he remembers what led to it and pain is fresh all over again. And as much as he tries not to he takes in every detail he can of her appearance, especially the way she can no longer hide the swell of her stomach, and they way she moves without her usual grace. He has moments of not hating the baby, of feeling a piercing pain in his sternum when he thinks about it now that he's not so angry.

In the quiet dark of his little hideaway he feels it infect every part of him, the loss and regret and desire; still, always, the desire to have her back. By the time he falls asleep slumped over his desk his eyes are swollen and red, cheeks wet and itchy, and the blood from his split lip has washed into the collar of his shirt.

* * *

Shauna knocks on the door of Tris' office before she lets herself in. It's not that she's unwelcome, but she knows in Tris' eyes she still carries the stigma of being Tobias' friend and not hers, no matter how angry she is with him. Christina smiles at her warmly, and Tris at least tries to.

"I brought you something," she says, plunking down a key on her desk. "New apartment opened up in the Pire. It's a two bedroom, so you'll have plenty of room."

The first time they had this conversation she let slip that if anyone should be moving it should be Tobias, but all that had accomplished was making Tris cry and then angrily declare that there was no way she was going back to that apartment whether Tobias was there or not.

Tris stares at it for a minute like it's something dangerous before gingerly picking it up and slipping it into her desk drawer. It's not that she doesn't understand the necessity of it, it's that a new apartment makes her separation from Tobias feel real and permanent in a way she's been avoiding. "Thank you," she says stiffly.

"Don't you have to get ready for a delivery?" Christina says, breaking the tense, awkward silence that has descended on them.

"Yeah, I-" Tris cuts off abruptly, hand flying to the swell of her belly, breath catching in her throat. There's a weird twisting sensation in her stomach. Or a swirling maybe, like water, but inside of her, and she can _feel_ him. For a second the world just stops.

"Tris?"

"The baby... I felt him move," she whispers, awestruck. If the doctor hadn't warned her that she would start to feel the baby move at her last appointment she would have been panic stricken, but as it is it's the first time she's been truly happy since she left Tobias sprawled on their bedroom floor.

* * *

_Tobias,_

_Shauna found me a new apartment. Christina and Michael will come a week from Thursday to move my belongings while you're at work._

_-Tris_

That little message of mass destruction sat in his inbox for nearly three days before he found it, too occupied with moving from morning to night and feeling as little as possible to care about checking his email. Tobias took one look at it and walked right out of the Control Room. He's been blowing off every leadership meeting since Tris left, so why not his other job too?

He hopped a train and took it all the way to the fence. For the first time since he met Tris he seriously considered leaving the city, just walking out the gate and never looking back. He even hooked his hands into the chainlink at one point, trying to force himself over it, but he couldn't do it. There were still pieces of him here, pieces that screamed in pain and revolted at the idea of being left behind, pieces of him that still belonged to Tris.

When he got back to Dauntless he walked straight to the bar and started drinking, trying to kill the hours until he could bleed out this fresh wave of pain.

"I don't think I like you much without her," Zeke says when he finds him.

"Me neither."

"Then why aren't you trying to get her back?" It's not the first time in the last few weeks Zeke has said those words to him.

"She's moving out." Tobias' voice sounds flat and dead even in his own ears, but that's not what he feels.

"I know."

Tobias' eyes snap to his, anger and pain flashing across them. "Thanks for the warning," he snaps.

"What did you think was going to happen? That she'd sleep on Uriah's couch for the rest of her life?"

"I thought she'd come home," Tobias spits back before he can stop himself. It's an honest answer and one he immediately regrets. He hates what it says about him, hates how weak it makes him even if it is the truth.

"Maybe if you gave her a reason to she would."

"I'm not the one who left."

"You're a fucking child," Zeke snaps. He loves Tobias like a brother, but that only goes so far. In the last three weeks he has watched him take a wrecking ball to his life. He's tried being supportive and understanding and patient, but with that one snotty comment Tobias has extinguished the last flicker of goodwill left for him.

"She doesn't want me, Zeke," Tobias all but shouts back.

"You've been jerking her around for months and now that she's gone you're treating her like she's the one who did something wrong," he shouts back. "She stuck it out as long as she could because she loves _you_, because she wants to have this baby with _you_."

They have the attention of the whole bar, but neither of them notice or care. "You want to know why she's moving out now? Because she felt the baby move for the first time and she realized he needed a home. A real one. Not my brother's shitty bachelor pad, and not some place her baby was so unwanted she was driven out."

Zeke snatches the full shot glass out from under Tobias' hand, draining it one before spitting his final barb at his best friend and walking out. "Get your shit together, Four, or you're going to be watching your kid grow up on video next." He knows that's a low blow, but it's far better than what he wanted to say, which was, 'maybe you're exactly like Marcus, maybe this was how it started for him too'. But as angry as Zeke is he would never be cruel, and he feels guilty for even thinking it.

By the time the bar closes the bottle of whiskey that started out full in front of Tobias is empty. For the first time since he was an initiate and broke Eric's face he truly lets go. Amar isn't there to pull him off his victim this time. This time it takes it three guys to pull him off the person who had the shit luck to get caught between his cross-hairs.

But for the first time since he saw Tris from the bottom of the Chasm he goes home. It feels like her ghost is lurking in the shadows, and when he lands face-down on the sheets they still faintly smell like her. And it breaks something inside of him. He screams into her pillow for so long he loses track of time, screams until his throat is torn to shreds and he has to scramble to the bathroom to heave into the toilet because even though he'd like to ignore Zeke's words he knows he did drive Tris from their home, just like the father he hates.

* * *

Tori is sitting behind her desk, glasses perched on her nose, sifting through papers. She's clearly a faction leader, and like all leaders the evidence of her burden is apparent. Her hair is streaked through with gray liberally now. She has lines on her face, and a general air of exhaustion. But her eyes are still sharp and keen, and she doesn't miss the way Tobias carefully lowers himself into the chair on the other side of her desk; carefully, like he's nursing wounds.

It should stir her sympathy, but it doesn't. Her and Harrison have been running themselves ragged picking up the slack since Tobias has been on his Lost Weekend because he's been shirking all his responsibilities, not just Tris.

"I know I have no right to ask you for a favor."

"No, you don't," she cuts him off. Tori might be a diminutive woman, but her anger has always made her seem bigger. Big enough that Tobias is intimidated by her.

"It's not for me, it's for Tris," he hastily adds.

"Then why isn't she asking me?"

"It's a surprise."

Tori glares at him, ruffling the papers in her hand like an angry bird ruffles their feathers. "Do you know what I'm doing?" Tobias swallows thickly, unsure if she wants an answer or a reason to yell at him. "Looking for your replacement. So what do you want?"

"The babies room is still bare, white walls. I know Tris wants to paint them, but I thought maybe you could paint something."

"You mean she's not sleeping on Uriah's couch anymore?"

"No, she still is. I just thought... maybe I could get her back home, where she belongs." His voice sounds broken and pathetic in his own ears. "I just... I need her home, Tori. I get it, you know, I get that she doesn't want me and I'm the one to blame for that, but I can't..." he trails off, looking out the window.

He doesn't know how to explain waking up on the bathroom floor and then crawling into the nursery, doesn't know how to explain why this is so important to him because it's not all about Marcus. Tobias doesn't understand the emotional punch it packs when he sees kids running around Dauntless because even though there have been moments he's been excited about the baby, on the whole he hasn't been, but it's different now too.

"So this is your apology?"

"It's what I can do. Fix up the baby's room for her, give her the home she deserves even if I'm not welcome in it."

Tori sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Give me your keys."

"Thank you."

"I'm not doing this for you," she snaps. She hefts the pile of folders off her desk and onto Tobias lap. "I want a shortlist of three to five names by the end of the day."

* * *

Tobias lets out a frustrated sigh, pitching another crumpled up piece of paper across the room, towards the wastebasket, and grabs another sheet. He didn't think writing Tris a note to wish her a happy birthday would be so hard, but there has to be a dozen balls of paper around the room, each a failed attempt.

His knuckles are white where they grip the pen, stress and annoyance making him dig it into the paper, more etching than writing. The beginning, at least, is easy.

_Tris -_

_I know you don't want to see me, but I wanted to give you something for your birthday. I looked through the Dauntless archives and found this._

It's a picture of her mother not long before she transferred to Abnegation. From the way she's dressed it looks like she's at a party, her hair falling past her shoulders in soft waves.

The next part of the letter is a little trickier. He wants to tell her that he hopes she'll put the picture in the nursery, but he's in no position to make suggestions when it comes to the baby, and he knows it.

_I know you wish your mother was still alive, and I do too. But at least the baby will know what she looked like, and he'll know that his grandmother was strong, and brave, and beautiful like his mother._

The ending is the part that's really giving him trouble though because this whole thing could easily backfire on him, just the simple act of giving her a gift, let alone all the things he wants to tell her. But he knows they'll only hurt her to hear them and this should be a happy day for her, not just something else in a long line of things he's ruined and he's already treading a fine line there. So he signs his name, tapes the card to the framed picture and wraps it up in shiny black and silver striped paper and walks downstairs.

The air in the Control Room is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Despite the fact that they've worked together the last four days, Zeke hasn't said anything to Tobias since that night in the bar.

Tobias sets down the present on the desk next to him. He doesn't expect Zeke to acknowledge him, and he doesn't. "I know Uriah's throwing Tris' birthday party tonight. I was hoping you could give her this for me."

When Zeke doesn't say anything, just keeps pounding on the keyboard, Tobias leaves the room, leaves the compound entirely.

The sun is still high in the sky, and the day is hot and humid. By the time he makes it to Navy Pier he's pouring sweat, but he doesn't stop moving until he's sitting on the same platform Tris led him to, halfway up the Ferris wheel.

His fear of heights isn't something he ever expected to get over, and he hasn't, but sitting up here he feels closer to her than he has in a while even though she's miles away.


	7. Chapter 7

Tobias is careful to wear something that covers the bruises on his arms, and chokes down some pain pills so he can move without giving away the fact that his body is more black, blue, green, and yellow than flesh colored.

He ignores the looks of hostility and suspicion he gets as he walks through the bowels of Dauntless and towards Tris' office. His heart is slamming against his ribs and he feels like he might throw up, but he ignores that too.

Her door is open and she's bowed over her desk, one hand pushed up into her hair as she scribbles out order forms. Just seeing her, being closer to her than he's been in weeks makes pain spread out from his heart, unfurl across his collar bones and curl up his neck. He can't decide if it feels like dying or if it feels like love, can't decide if they're all that different.

When he raps his knuckles on the doorframe she looks up and her face goes slack, disbelieving. Her eyes drop down to the pretty wrapped package in his hand, the same one she refused to accept when Zeke offered it to her at her birthday party. A second later she snaps her mouth shut and looks back down at the papers on her desk. "I don't want your gift." Her tone clearly telling him he's one wrong word away from getting yelled at. "And I don't have anything to say to you."

He hovers and fidgets for a minute before stepping inside and closing the door. They don't need to give the rumor mill any more fuel. She closes her eyes and forces out a harsh breath through her nose, willing him to leave. "Thirty seconds and I'll go," he pleads and sits down in the chair across from her.

She doesn't say anything, doesn't even look up at him.

"I moved out of the apartment. Shauna told me you don't want it anymore either way, but before you make a decision take a look at the spare room."

Her teeth are clenched together so hard she thinks they might shatter. She wants to ask him if Shauna told him she doesn't want help with the baby, won't even let Christina throw her a baby shower because she has to get used to doing things on her own, so she can handle being alone with the baby after he's born. She wants to ask Tobias why he's doing this now, if he thinks it's enough to get her back.

But she doesn't say any of that. She says, "I need you to leave, Tobias. Now." Her words strung at tightly as her muscles.

He doesn't argue and once he's gone she leans back in her chair and tries to steady herself; tries to stop her hands shaking, and heart racing, and pull some air into her lungs. The baby twists and kicks, and her hands fall to her stomach, caressing. "I know, you didn't like that either," she murmurs soothingly, keeping up a steady stream of coos until he calms.

It's just the reminder she needs. The first time she felt him move she didn't find any closure about her relationship with Tobias, but she did find a new resolve about the future. A determination set in, and though Christina has been nagging about her 'stubbornly' refusing the baby shower, it's not about that. It's about loving her baby and being a mother and doing what's best for him even before he's born. It's about being self-reliant even if Christina doesn't see it that way.

And she found strength in it. Strength that enables her to not cry herself to sleep every night, and ignore the gossip, and face the things she has been running from, like a new apartment. Clearly it hasn't done anything to quell her anger at Tobias, and at first she's dead set against his request out of nothing but spite, but later she's curious because of an off-hand comment Tori made at her birthday party that made no sense at the time.

Still, it takes until the night before she plans to move her things out before that curiosity propels her through the door. Tris has to subdue the panic she feels when she walks into the scene of their last fight and quickly steps to the spare room. What she finds takes her breath away.

Tori painted the walls in soft green to contrast the leafy trees and birds and squirrels and deer silhouetted in deep brown, one of which has a boy hanging from the limb Dauntlessly. She even painted some trees in a different shade of green to create depth and the whole thing more than makes up for the fact that the room has no windows. It's beautiful. Perfect and wonderful and immediately she feels like Benjamin belongs there.

Tris chokes out a sound of shock and nearly stumbles into the room. It's all there; a crib and dresser and changing table and rocker. There's even a set of shelves and her breath catches in her throat at the sight of the framed picture of her mother and the tiny toy Ferris wheel sitting next to it. Her fingers skim across the dark, glossy wood of the crib, the soft white bedding, the mobile hanging above it, each arm ending with a colorful paper pinwheel.

If things weren't absolute shit between her and Tobias she would be all over him, showering him with kisses and words of thanks and love. As it is though, she lowers herself gently into the rocker, mind buzzing and body thrumming. She's too confused by it. Weeks of nothing and then this?

She doesn't know how long she sits there, trying to untangle her thoughts, trying to divine his motivations and decide if any of the reasons she comes up with will mollify her enough to be able to accept this amazing gift from him. And she doesn't know how long Tobias stands in the door watching her, but when his voice finally reaches her she startles. "Do you like it?" She has a feeling he's probably said it a few times.

Tris forces her eyes to focus, drags them over to where he's leaning against the door. She didn't really have a chance to take in his appearance before, but she does now and she has no doubt the whispers about him that have reached her ears are true. And maybe it's juvenile, but pleases something inside of her to know he's doing worse off alone than she is.

"Tobias, it's... perfect," she sighs in defeated exasperation. "Why are you doing this? I don't-" she starts and then cuts off, trying to find a way to condense all her questions into one and coming up empty. "Is it just so you feel better about everything that's happened?" She finishes lamely.

He winces at the reminder that the Abnegation believe most apologies aren't about the people wounded, they're just a way to alleviate the guilt of the person who inflicted the wounds. He doesn't contradict her because that's probably part of it, though he won't even admit it to himself, let alone her.

He walks up to her slowly, carefully folding himself down onto the floor in front of her. It's probably meant to reassure, but all it does is come off timid and she can't help thinking how diminished he looks. A sliver of her anger peels away at the sight, and as much as she'd like to blame her pregnancy hormones for it, she knows it has nothing to do with that. Tobias' pain has always hurt her, even when it shouldn't.

His eyes get hung up on the swell of her stomach for a minute, at the way her arm is absently cradled around it like she's holding the baby, before dropping to the floor while he fiddles with his shoe laces. "You and the baby need a home, and you both deserve a real one. Maybe this isn't much, but it's what I could do."

"All it does is complicate things."

He drags a hand across his face, tries to wipe away his emotions with it and answer her. "It doesn't have to. You don't have to see me again after this if you don't want to."

"It's not about what I want, it's about what's best for the baby." He expects her voice to be hard and angry, or maybe biting and sarcastic, but definitely accusatory. The fact that it isn't any of those things, that it's even and calm, throws him. He looks up to find her watching him, but he doesn't find anything in her expression that gives him an answer, and after a minute she looks away. "Don't expect me to wait until you figure it out."

It's her dismissal and he knows it. Tobias pulls his key out of his pocket, sets it at her feet, and pushes himself to his own. "If you don't want the apartment I'll tell Shauna to give it to someone with kids," he says quietly and walks out. He waits until he's in the elevator to let his face reflect the pain he feels because he's never going to be what's best for that baby.

* * *

"Well, she took the apartment, so that's good." Zeke has always been the 'forgive and forget' type and Tobias never really appreciated that until he was on the receiving end of it.

He missed his friend, and not just because it's easier to bear the looks he's getting from the Dauntless ranged around the park the same as it was to bear the looks they gave him when the Erudite let every know exactly why he transferred with a friend by his side.

A warm summer breeze blows across the park. There's a football game going on in one corner, and children playing in the other, and teenagers sneaking off for someplace secluded in-between. It's idyllic, but all he can think about is the last time he was here with Tris and the fight that they had.

"Have you talked to her since?"

"No. I'm leaving that up to her," Tobias says, plucking at the withering grass surrounding him.

"That's stupid," Zeke scoffs.

"Not if she doesn't want to see me anymore."

"She still loves you."

"It's not about that anymore. It's about what's best for the baby."

"And you still think that's not you?"

"Every kid deserves to be loved," he mutters, remembering exactly why he feels that way.

"And if you didn't love that kid at least a little you wouldn't have spent all the time nitpicking every insignificant detail you did putting that nursery together. And by the way, fuck you for that; I'm pretty sure Shauna expects me to go all out for our next one now."

"Sorry," Tobias chuckles before turning serious again. "But that wasn't... I wanted it to be perfect _for her, _for everything I put her through." Which is why he spent days obsessing on it, debating over the finish of the furniture and searching through what felt like a million bedding sets so over-the-top babyish they made him want to puke until he found the right one.

"A guilty conscience doesn't preclude you from loving your kid."

"No, it doesn't, but I can't guarantee that things will be different if I do somehow manage to get a second chance. That's not fair to anybody."

Their conversation is cut short by Zoey bounding over, cheeks flushed from chasing the object of her affection around the park. His name is Nick and unlike the other boys in her daycare he doesn't have cooties. She tugs her dad to his feet, intent to follow him back to the Pire now that he's leaving with his parents.

"You know you're raising a little stalker," Tobias mutters, a wry smile turning up his lips.

"Says the man who watches his girlfriend on the surveillance cameras," Zeke deadpans.

It's twilight by the time they get back to Dauntless and there's a line of Amity trucks pulled up outside, delivering food. Zoey catches sight of Tris just as Tobias does and, with a gleeful shriek, barrels towards her favourite Auntie. By the time Tobias and Zeke catch up Zoey is jumping up and down and demanding 'up' while Tris tries to patiently explain to her that her belly is too big for that now.

"Here," Zeke says, hooking his hands under her arms and lifting her so that she's face to face with Tris. After a sloppy kiss to Tris' cheek he sets her back down. "Wow, you're getting so big."

Tobias glares at him, but Tris just rolls her eyes. "Thanks, Zeke."

"How far along are you now?"

"Six months as of yesterday."

Tobias can't help being envious at the ease of their banter. He doesn't know what to say to Tris anymore, so he stands there, mute and awkward and trying to come up with something that doesn't sound like he's talking to a stranger before he realizes she may be addressing herself to Zeke for the same reason; she doesn't know how to talk to him anymore either.

"Shauna wants to get together with everyone later this week, go out for pizza or something."

"Yeah, she told me."

"Are you coming?"

"If I'm not too tired. It's hard to get comfortable enough to sleep because I'm _getting so big_," she smirks at him.

With the last of the food delivered they walk into the Pire, Tobias wishing he knew enough about pregnancy to recommend sleeping with a body pillow to her the way Zeke did. Of course the only way he knew it was because Shauna slept with one when she was pregnant, so.

They pause by the service elevator to say goodbye when Tris reaches out for Zoey's hand and asks her if she wants to feel the baby move inside her. Tris presses her hand to the side of her stomach. "Can you feel him? She asks after a minute.

Zoey's little face puckers in confusion and she shakes her head. Worry floods Tris' face and before it can blossom into full blown hysteria that maybe she's hallucinating the whole thing Tobias reaches out and touches the same spot. Everyone holds their breath at the contact; Tris out of shock, and Tobias out of guilt for what he's unthinkingly done, and Zeke because he's waiting for one of them to yell at the other. But then there it is, something solid putting pressure on his palm. He looks up at Tris, smiling, but she's still looking down at his hand. When he feels it again he follows after it a few inches, at least until it becomes clear the baby is done moving for now and he lets his hand fall to his side.

It's Tris who recovers first, stepping away with a wave and promise to go out with them before disappearing into the service elevator.

Zeke startles Tobias out his stupor with a slap to his back. "Look, I'm no Erudite, but Tris has been chasing after you for months. Maybe now it's your turn."

* * *

**A/N: Well, crap. Just realized the discrepancy in Zoey's age here at the end. For whatever reason I was thinking of her as older than I've made her in previous chapters. Fixed it now.**

**So, bit of a short chapter, but it was the only convenient place to cut it. Oh, and if you're curious about what the baby's room looks like I'm posting the pictures I used for inspiration on my tumblr (bleuwrites dot Tumblr, etc.). **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I intended this chapter to be longer, but I'm just not up to writing it right now. Besides, I like leaving off where I did. As always Thank You for all the reviews, follows, favourites and Tumblr asks/fan mail/etc. (link in profile) I've gotten for this story. It's great motivation to keep writing (even when I'm sick). **

* * *

It is dark and cold and the fronds of the corn stalks tickle Tobias' cheek if he turns his head one way and scrape shallow cuts into his skin if he turns it the other. He can see the beams of light from the flashlights the Erudite carry illuminating the greenery around him. His breath comes in short, shallow bursts. Somehow he's gotten separated from Tris as they flee Amity.

He holds his breath, straining to hear her, praying the silence didn't mean she is dead like everyone else. That is when he hears it. The thin, high wail of a baby somewhere close by. The lights swing around in his direction, followed closely by the sounds of bodies crashing through the field.

Tobias slips between the stalks as much as he can, not wanting to draw his pursuers attention with the movement. In his haste to escape he nearly steps on the baby. It's tiny and helpless and it's face is scrunched up and red as it screams. In terms of survival he knows leaving it there is his best option. With the Erudite focused on it he can maybe find Tris and get the hell out of here, but he scoops it up and keeps moving, trying to muffle it's wailing against his chest.

The lights fade again eventually, and he lets himself stop to rest for a minute; get his bearings, come up with a plan, something. He sits down and settles the infant against his steepled legs, its little feet pushing against his hip bones and head cradled between his knees.

"You have to stop crying," he commands. "Stop it. They're hear us," he says like reasoning with it makes perfect sense. It just cries louder.

He wants to clamp his hand across it's face, but he's pretty sure he'll just end up suffocating it, so he sits there helplessly watching it while he racks his brain, trying to figure out the puzzle he's presented with. His legs bounce in agitation, a nervous habit that drives Tris crazy, and his brain crash lands there.

"Tris," he whispers harshly into the dark surrounding them. His eyes reel around, desperate for any sign of her, but all he sees is the darkened corn around him. No movement, no flash of blonde or blue or fragile shoulders or thin limbs. To keep from hyperventilating right out of consciousness in panic that he can't find her he turns his attention back to the baby. It's hiccuping into silence when he does, soothed by the moving of his legs.

"That's better, huh?" Tobias keeps murmuring little things to it, not really words just sounds, and wipes away the wetness on it's cheeks. After a while it yawns, pink lips pulling into a perfect 'O', and it's eyes flutter closed.

He feels it too, the weight of exhaustion crushing his bones, leaving his muscles heavy and useless. It would be so nice to sleep. And easy. So easy. But there's still danger, and he tries to keep his eyes open, leaning back to count stars and wait for the dawn and trying not to think of the bodies that must litter the field with them, trying not to think of Tris broken and bloody and _dead_.

The next thing he's aware of is the soft warmth of Tris' skin against his cheek. He nuzzles into it, a smile curling up the corners of his lips as he says, "you found us." He could stay here forever; there's nothing better than this. Tobias reaches out, aiming to loop an arm around her waist and hold her to him, but his hand impacts with something hard and his eyes fly open.

He thrashes for a minute, confused, until his eyes can make sense of the shadows and light around him. He nearly cries when he realizes he's in his shitty little apartment off the Pit. Alone. It's not the exact same one he had when he met Tris, but the layout is identical. Back then having a space to call his own, a space he didn't have to fear Marcus in, felt like the greatest freedom in the world. Now it feels like a prison cell.

And he hates it; hates everything it represents; hates that Tris has never been in it and will never be in it. It isn't home, and he lays flat on his back, staring at the ceiling like he can see into the apartment in the Pire that is.

There's no getting back to sleep, so he reaches for the tablet perched on the nightstand, calling up the book he was reading before he fell asleep. It seemed innocent enough at the time, his curiosity of just how big the baby had to be for him to be able to feel him moving, but clearly something stuck with him. His eyes scan back and forth, sifting through the text on the screen until he finds the passage he is looking for.

_24 Weeks_

_The baby is growing steadily, having gained four ounces in the last week, to weigh about a pound. It's body is long and lean; nearly a foot in length (picture an ear of corn)._

So that explains that. Sleepiness and suggestibility and his own brain kicking up the memory he most associates with corn blending together to form his dream.

Tobias reads through the entry again, still amused by the fact that the baby is developing taste buds for some reason he can't explain. Like he did before he fell asleep he reads the section for each week then flips through the chapters idly, feeding his newfound fascination with the tiny life inside of Tris. That alone upends some of the things he has accepted as gospel truths about himself, but he can, at least, dimly understand why feeling the baby move for the first time changed things for her.

* * *

Tobias sits on some stacked crates in the hallway outside Tris' office, feeling like flipping off every single person who gives him the side-eye as they walk past. Officially, she's supposed to go off the clock seven, right after the dinner rush, but he knows he's got another solid hour of waiting before she'll make an appearance. He could go in her office - the door's open -, but that feels intrusive, so he waits.

When she finally emerges her face flinches in shock at the sight of him, but it's gone as quickly as it comes. "I brought you something," he says, fumbling for the large paper bag at his feet.

"It's a pillow," Tris says, peering inside when he lifts it up for her.

"To help you sleep." It feels like the stupidest fucking gift in the world at the moment, but Tobias tries to ignore that.

"Thank you," she says like a Stiff, like the only reason she's accepting it is because it would be rude not to.

And that little exchange has exhausted everything they know to say to each other. So they stand there, him staring at his feet when she catches him watching her, and her staring at her toes since that's all her belly doesn't obscure when he catches her doing the same.

"Can I walk you up?" Blood thunders in his ears, and he can feel his pulse in his fingertips as he waits for her answer.

"Yeah, okay."

Aside from the crinkling of the paper bag and the sound of their footsteps it's a quiet trip up the service elevator to the glass floor of the Pire, and then across it to the next set of elevators. Tobias finally unsticks his tongue to ask how the baby is as Tris watches the numbers lighting up as they pass each floor.

"He has a name," she says softly.

"How's Benjamin?"

He sees her lips turn up a little before she ducks her face and he can't see it in the mirrored interior of the elevator anymore. "Active." He can easily imagine her rueful smile just from the sound of her voice.

"Is that why you can't sleep?"

"Mmm... part of it."

"What are the other parts?" He asks as the elevator doors slide open and he follows her out into the hall.

"It's hard to get comfortable; everything hurts. And I wake up a lot at night." She tactfully leaves out the part that her bladder feels like it's shrunk to the size of a walnut. "My dreams are really... _vivid_, now," she adds because that's part of it too.

He almost spills his guts right there about the dream he had with the baby in the cornfield, but decides it might upset her, so instead he asks what she dreams about.

"The baby. The war, a lot. Sometimes my family." And she leaves out the part about dreaming of him because even though those dreams generally trend towards heart-wrenchingly depressing, they have often dipped into territory so pornographic the only way she's gotten back to sleep was, well...

They stop at what used to be their door and now is just her door, neither sure how to say goodbye. She jingles the keys in her hands, staring up at him, waiting to see how he's going to handle so she'll have a clue how to handle it herself.

He shuffles his feet and scratches his neck and licks his lips, unsure how to ask for what he really wants. Eventually the best he can come up with is, "is he always active at night?"

"Usually."

He swallows down the lump in his throat. "Right now?"

She shakes her head, sadly.

"Okay," he says, trying to shrug off his disappointment. "Goodnight, then."

He's ten feet away when her voice stops him.

"Tobias? If you wait a little while he might move," she offers.

He follows her into her apartment not even trying to hide his relief. A half hour later she's lazily bobbing a bag of tea in her mug while they sit on the couch when the baby starts moving and she reaches out for Tobias, silently fitting his hands against her so he can feel it too.

It's surprising to him just how long the baby moves for. Yesterday it was fleeting, but tonight, even though there are lulls, it seems like he's been constantly moving. "No wonder you can't sleep," he says, eyes flitting up briefly to meet Tris'.

"He'll tire out in a few minutes, and then off and on for a while."

"All night?"

"It seems like it, sometimes." She laughs, softly, low in her throat so she doesn't disturb Tobias too much; he's got the same dopey expression on his face she probably had on hers the first time she felt Benjamin move.

But just like Tris said he does go still eventually. "Thank you," Tobias says quietly when he leaves. It feels intimate, like he should say it while nosing at her cheek and tangling a hand in her hair. She's not really sure if that's better or worse than the awkward goodbye they were trying to avoid, but it ends up keeping her awake far longer than the baby.

* * *

All Tris wanted to do on her day off was stay in bed and get some sleep. And now she's tired and achy and regretting letting Christina guilt her into shopping for the baby since she's denying her the pleasure of throwing a baby shower.

Tris pinches the bridge of her nose, tries to will away the headache she feels taking root and not just walk out of the store as Christina babbles beside her, enraptured by everything baby because she's not the pregnant one. Because some days, like today, Tris is ready for this pregnancy to be over. She's sick of the mood swings and lack of sleep and pain, sick of feeling fat and useless and unsteady on her feet.

And it's just going to get worse. She's still got another fifteen or sixteen weeks of the baby kicking more and her body getting bigger, and right now she just wants to be _done_. Even more so when Christina hooks a hand around her elbow to help her to her feet from where they were sitting on the floor as if to accentuate her invalid status.

"Come on, we'll look through the leftover stock in the back," Christina says, trying to quell Tris' annoyance at not being able to find any swaddling blankets she doesn't completely hate.

Christina nods to a tall, lanky girl sitting behind the register with a book in hand on their way to the back. She's still in the bean-pole stage of early teens, all awkward limbs and spotty skin and self consciousness, but she knows Christina and doesn't question her and Tris slipping through the door marked 'Employees Only'.

The storeroom is dank and dusty, but after pulling half the boxes off the shelves they finally light upon a few that have blankets that don't make Tris want to puke. She steers clear of the girlish colors, but stacks up a rainbow of green and blue blankets. She avoids the cool azure of Erudite (too many bad memories), but gladly accepts pale periwinkle and saturated cerulean. There's even a black and gray striped one that's poetic in it's color-coded accuracy.

The onesies are easier. They find a box of solid black ones and another with black striped with different colors; rich plum and sunset orange and deep cranberry red. It's better than the ones patterned in flames and knives and guns. Tris doesn't want to cloak her baby in violence even if she is Dauntless.

"I think you're going to need more than five," Christina says seriously.

Tris opens her mouth to argue, but it dies on her tongue because she's probably right. She doubles up to an even ten; one for each day and a few left over in case they get dirty before she can do laundry.

By the time they go back into the storefront Tris is much less annoyed and Christina decides to capitalize on it. "So, did Tobias walk you home again last night?" She asks as they walk through the aisles, on the hunt for the next items on their list.

The question immediately brings a scowl back to Tris' face because that is the other part of her foul mood. "Yes," she says, pitching a few packages of baby socks into their shopping basket.

"Have you guys talked at all?" Tris shakes her head, no. "So what do you two do? Just sit on the couch and wait for the baby to move?"

"Basically."

Feeling the baby move for the first time didn't make her magically fall out of love with Tobias, but it buoyed her when she accepted that things were over between them, gave her something to focus on other than her broken heart. But Tobias turning up and making it about the baby and not them has thrown her back into a certain amount of emotional chaos because there's no clear cut answer as to whether or not that is what is best for the baby. Her mind spiraling through all the 'what if's' of that is keeping her up at night right along with the baby's acrobatics.

"We're going to be late for dinner if we don't hurry up," Christina reminds her once they've filled a second basket with more clothes and burpings clothes and special downy soft terry towels and washcloths meant for a baby's sensitive skin.

Tris groans. She has completely forgotten about meeting Zeke and Shauna and everyone for dinner. Honestly, it's the last thing she wants to do. Tobias will be there, and she doesn't think she can handle another meal of him and Uriah facing off across the table, of the strain of everyone trying to ignore it or distract them from it.

And if she's honest she doesn't want to face Tobias right now. Her mind is too busy thinking about him as it is, and even if it wasn't things are painfully awkward between them right now; it's not something she wants an audience for. She knows there's a good chance he'll just come up to the apartment to look for her, but that doesn't mean she has to answer the door.

"I can tell them you're not feeling up to it," Christina says gently as they make their way towards the register. "They'll understand."

"Thank you," Tris says quietly, finally finding something to be truly appreciative of today. She waves off Christina's offer to help her up to her apartment, and when she walks through the door she almost moans in pleasure at the prospect of some pleasant (for once) alone time.

She kicks off her shoes and hefts herself to the middle of the bed. Even though she's tired she dumps out her purchases and removes the packaging and tags, lets the fabric slide through her fingers, absently noting the different textures of muslin and cotton jersey and terry cloth. In the fading light of sunset she sorts them into piles. The baby isn't due for weeks and she really doesn't need to do this now, but she wants to wash them and fold them and put them away.

She smirks to herself as she drapes the clothes and blankets over her arms. Her mood has swung the other way and now she wants to 'nest' and it's much more pleasant than her annoyance from earlier, even with sleepiness creeping into her peripheral. She pads across the apartment to the utility closet by the front door that houses the washer and dryer.

Just as she reaches it there's a knock at the front door, and she freezes. Before he even says anything she knows it's Tobias on the other side. Her pulse races, unsure if he heard her footfalls, if she can just stay still and he'll go away; if she wants him to go away.

He knocks again, softly. "Tris?" He calls out. "If you don't want to see me that's fine. I brought you some ziti. I'll just leave it out here if you want."

Her heart clenches at his tone and her mouth waters at his offering - ziti is her favourite from the little Italian restaurant in the Pit -, and before she can stop herself she opens the door. They stare at eachother for a moment and then Tris lets the door swing open, steps to the side so Tobias can come in.

"What are you doing here Tobias?" She asks after he carefully places his offering on the coffee table. Maybe it's not the right time to ask, but the prospect and tossing and turning for another night is so unappealing she can't not ask.

"Bringing you dinner."

She shoots him a look because she knows he knows that's not what she's asking and acting cute isn't going to get him anywhere.

He weighs his answer carefully, not because he's trying to form a pacifying lie, but because if there was any one thing that growing up under Marcus' iron fist taught him it was that displays of vulnerability were a mortal weakness; any emotion other than anger was something that could be used as a weapon.

But he doesn't want to be that person anymore, hasn't wanted to since Tris fell into his life. And after everything he's put her through she deserves an honest answer, even if she will throw it cruelly back in his face.

"You have this connection with Benjamin that I haven't had. Until I felt him move he was just this thing that invaded you... that came between us. But he's not now. He's not 'it' or 'the baby'; he's a real person and he wasn't before, not to me anyway."

"That doesn't really answer my question," she breathes out. He gives her a confused look and she sighs heavily before elaborating. "I can't deal with you deciding for a few days that you want a part of this, and then freaking out and leaving, _again_. And I won't let you do it after Benjamin is born. I won't let him love you just so you can break his heart over and over by being there and not the way you have with me. I won't. _So, why are you here, Tobias?_"

He sits down on the couch, heavily, head in his hands. "I miss my family," he says more to his knees than Tris. "I know I should just leave you alone, but the only times I've been happy since I pushed you away have been the last few days; the minutes I spend here with you."

"When did you get so selfish?" If not for the undercurrent of bitterness, Tris' voice would register nothing other than mild amusement.

"I guess when I fell in love with you," Tobias says with a mirthless chuckle. "I don't know why I'm here," he mutters, sounding broken. " I keep hoping that we can be friends, you know? That I can be around you two the same way Uriah and Christina and everyone else is instead of being a total stranger."

"Why?" There's bewilderment and incredulity in her tone, from the disconnect with everything he's saying and everything he's conveying wordlessly.

"Because it's the best I can hope for."

There's a part of her - the naive, girlish part - that wants to tell him that's not true, but the weight of her distrust after everything he's put her through keeps her mouth shut.

"And I know it's something I can do," he adds after a moment.

Suddenly Tris is just so tired. Tired of him, tired of this conversation, tired of everything. And it feels like it's crushing her. She shuffles toward the bedroom, laundry forgotten, another night of tossing and turning waiting to embrace her. She's still awake an hour later when she hears him leave.


	9. Chapter 9

When Tobias comes home at night to his drab, empty apartment and he's not in the mood to read another baby book he occupies himself with puzzles. First word games - crosswords, word searches -, and then mazes. The mazes are the ones he likes the best. It's all carefully constructed lines ushering him towards a predetermined end, not at all unlike his relationship with Tris.

She laid down the rules that she is comfortable with if he wants to be around. They can be friends, or something like it. He can walk her home at night and stay until she gets sleepy or there is a lull in Benjamin's acrobatics, whichever comes first. But that is the only thing they can do alone. They don't have meals together unless it's a group thing and then they're both just there and not there together.

The rule he likes the least is the one about him not being welcome at her doctor's appointments, especially since they're increasing in frequency now that she's little more than a month away from giving birth. Because they're _friends_ now and she doesn't let 'friends' tag along to those. She still tells him everything that happens at them; another one of her carefully drawn lines because talking about Benjamin is fine, but talking about their history isn't.

Although the most painful part of that particularly awful conversation was the part about what to tell Benjamin when he gets old enough to ask about his father. Hearing Tris say, "we'll tell him the truth, part of it anyway. That we loved each other, but it didn't work out," left him feeling something akin to motion sickness - queasy and clammy and weak. And that past-tense still makes him feel a little like he's having a heart attack every time he thinks about it.

Still, he does his level best to stay inside the arbitrary lines Tris has drawn and he's agreed to for a couple of months. And he is largely successful at it, aside from a minor dispute over whether the birth certificate will read 'Benjamin Eaton' or 'Benjamin Prior'. At least until Tris comes down with a cold and he sees _some fucking guy_ turn up at her door bearing a bag of goodies on the surveillance cameras.

"I'll be back in a sec," he says to Zeke, not even waiting for an answer before walking out the door of the Control Room with his hands clenched into fists. Zeke rolls his chair over to Tobias' desk and expands the little video feed playing in the corner so it fills the whole screen, all the while wishing he had some popcorn and hoping if there's a fight it's in the hallway where he can see it.

By the time Tobias makes it upstairs he can hear the low murmur of voices through the partially closed door of Tris' apartment. He knocks, but doesn't bother waiting for an answer before pushing it open. _The guy_ is actually Jason, Dauntless head chef. As far as Tobias can tell that basically entails yelling at the line cooks and being an insufferable asshole, which surprisingly, he isn't being now.

No, right now he's standing next to Tris at the kitchen table looking almost human and acting concerned that she didn't show up to work and carrying a heavily laden bag in one hand and a folder full of papers in the other.

"Hey," Tobias says, taking in Tris' PJ's and pink nose and the tattoo's of Dauntless looking cooking utensils sleeved up Jason's arms with flames and bones. "Everything okay?"

"She's sick," Jason says, his tone completely dismissing Tobias.

"Yeah, I know," Tobias replies, his voice as flat and cold as it used to be in the training rooms and he had to put the fear of God into some smart-mouthed initiate.

Tris tugs the folder out of Jason's hand, rhinopharyngitis smothering her famous perception to the point that she's oblivious to the silent back-and-forth alpha-male territorial pissing contest going on in her kitchen. It's the kind of thing that should have the two men circling and snarling, but they're trying to impress the X chromosome in the room so they keep it to pointed glares and maliciously curled lips.

It doesn't stop Tobias putting himself between the pair though, his clenched teeth and jumping jaw bones still thoroughly conveying the 'get out' he's hissing in his head.

Tris prods him out of the way with a finger in his side. "You didn't have to bring all this up," she points out, handing Jason back the papers she had to sign to secure their next order of food from Amity.

Jason shrugs out the tension in his shoulders and sets the bag on the counter, pulling out a huge container of fresh chicken soup, bread, and what looks like half a Dauntless cake. Tobias picks up on an air of hunter-gatherer-Y-chromosome-provider about the whole thing, but he may just be projecting more onto the action than there is. "Feel better, okay?" He says, lightly touching her arm before walking out the door.

"That guy's a dick," Tobias says, like he's telling her water's wet.

"He's okay," Tris says noncommittally, her voice raspy and stuffy all at the same time.

"Did you call the doctor?" Tobias' voice is surprisingly gentle now that it's just the two of them. He starts putting the food away, but ladles out a bowl of soup for her.

"Mmhmm. I have to go pick up some medication. I'm trying to work up the resolve to actually do it though," she says sarcastically, taking the bowl of soup from Tobias with a grateful smile.

"Eat your soup, I'll go get it."

"Tobias, I-"

"_Eat_."

Tris doesn't have the energy to argue with him, so she sits down on the couch and does what he says. By the time she finishes he's back, white paper bag with her medicine in one hand and a jar of honey and a netted bag full of brilliant yellow lemons in the other.

"You should go back to work," Tris pointedly says as Tobias busies himself in the kitchen.

He heats up the kettle before slicing a lemon and squeezing the juice out into a mug. The simple mixture of lemon juice, hot water, and honey is sweet and savory and soothing and one of the few things Evelyn did right. Even if it didn't work wonders for a sore throat it was a rare treat, one he knows Tris will enjoy given her current state.

"There's nothing going on today. Zeke'll be fine on his own," he says, ignoring Tris' less than subtle suggestion.

He keeps the mug in one hand and urges her back towards the bedroom with the other, waiting to hand it to her until she's propped up against the pillows. "We're _friends_, Tobias," she reminds him once she swallows a couple of pills past the painfully raw spot in her throat.

"Yeah, and if Christina or Uriah were here you'd let them do this, so why won't you let me?"

She huffs in irritation, because even though that's true it's still different when it comes to Tobias. But she doesn't press the issue; it would just lead to a fight and her day already sucks as it is.

He picks up the book split open across the top of the bed. "What's this?"

"A book," she says slowly, one eyebrow cocked up like he's stupid, because really. After a minute she answers the question he meant, not the one he asked. "I was reading before Jason showed up. Trying to calm Benjamin down so I could sleep."

"Did it work?"

"As long as he could hear my voice. When I stopped he'd start moving again."

Tobias flips through a few pages. "Can I?"

Tris shrugs, eases back against the pillows and sips her drink while Tobias settles himself next to her and starts reading out loud. By the time she finishes it the baby has gone still again and she closes her eyes. Tobias keeps reading until his mouth goes dry.

When he looks up Tris is sound asleep. He stretches out his hand and smooths it over the swell of her stomach. "You need to let her sleep, okay?" he murmurs. He keeps his hand there, waiting to see if Benjamin will start moving and ready to start reading again if he does.

As his thumb rubs small circles over the fabric of her shirt Tobias looks her over. He smiles remembering her first doctors visit and his bewilderment at her not looking pregnant. She does now, though he doesn't think the nearly twenty pounds she's gained makes her look fat and unattractive despite what she thinks.

She's always been more than beautiful and not just to him, pregnant and sick or not, and everything he walked in on just makes him painfully aware of that. They're not together anymore and it feels like she's growing up without him because even though he's lived through more than any twenty year old should he still feels like a kid sometimes. And even though that's his son in there one day she'll leave Tobias completely behind and fall in love again; have a whole life and more kids and a family he won't be a part of.

And now that he can put a face to that future the picture is so sharp it hurts. Sitting there he already feels like he's on the periphery of it. Someone hanging around the edges, unimportant.

There's a tap at the front door that pulls him out of his depressing ruminations and he slips off the bed, careful not to disturb Tris. Shauna's waiting for him on the other side, a small pile of clothes in her lap. "Oh, hey, I didn't know you'd be here. Is Tris okay?"

"Caught a cold," Tobias says, his voice more relaxed and unconcerned than he feels.

"Well that blows." She picks up the stack of clothes and holds them out to Tobias. "I thought she could use these. Before we found out we were having a girl we bought a few boy things."

Tobias looks over his shoulder, making sure Tris is still asleep in the bedroom before taking a step into the hall and half closing the door behind him. "Hey, um, has Tris ever said anything about that guy Jason?" He knows he'd probably have better luck with Christina since she's the one Tris really confides in, but things have been chilly between them since she punched him in the face.

"No. Why?"

"He was here earlier. I was just curious what she thought of him."

"She doesn't think of him. At all," she scoffs. It's that little sarcastic noise that makes him wonder if he's not the only one who's noticed the attention Jason's paid her, though clearly Tris hasn't or just doesn't care if she has.

"Thanks." A small smiles curls up Tobias' lips. "For the clothes, I mean," he clarifies though they both know that's not what he's thanking her for. Shauna waves goodbye as she wheels herself down the hall.

Tris doesn't wake up until after dark and when she does Tobias is sitting on the bed next to her, silently reading the same book he was reading out loud when she fell asleep. "You're still here," Tris says, her voice sluggish and thick. Tobias can't tell if she's happy or annoyed by it. She cranes her neck to look at the clock and then flops back against the pillows, closing her eyes again.

"Are you hungry?"

"Not really," she mumbles, already half asleep again.

"I'll warm you up some soup."

"Okay," she breathes out.

Ten minutes later he has to shake her awake and help her sit up so she can eat. She eats what he puts in front of her, not really hungry and not really tasting it, but knowing she has to eat something. "You should go home," she says as he clears the dirty dishes.

"You're sick."

"With a cold, not the Plague," she deadpans, although she's not so sure of that with the way she feels.

"Why won't you let me take care of you?"

The polite answer is, 'because it complicates things'. The honest answer, the one she gives him is, "because I don't want to get used to you being here. It will just hurt more when you decide to leave."

Her words are like a knife in the gut and when he looks down at his feet he's surprised he's not standing in a puddle of his entrails. "I won't."

He doesn't need her to say 'I don't believe you,' or 'I can't trust you'. It's written plainly on her face. And it's his fault. He gave her good reason to feel that way and he has no idea how to fix it other than being there, which she won't let him do. It's a classic catch-22.

Tobias takes a deep breath, finally realizing he was holding it in the first place. "Get some sleep, I'll clean up," he says and walks out. Despite being elbow deep in soapy water and dirty dishes he hears her shuffle to the bathroom, then the closet, then back to bed, the bedside lamp clicking off a moment later. She still leaves the bathroom light on though, just like she always did for him when waking up in a darkened room would remind him of his father's closet.

Since her telling him to leave was mostly a suggestion instead of a directive he decides to ignore it and crashes on the couch. He watches the moon traverse the sky, critically cross-examining himself and his motivations. It's not fair to anyone if he's only here because he's jealous, and after fifty questions to and from his psyche he decides that's definitely not the case.

He misses her, loves her, wants her. He wants to be able to say the same about Benjamin, and he feels it, not as strong as he feels it for Tris but it's there, but he holds back on that. Maybe because Tris doesn't trust that; maybe because it's still a little surreal that he has a son in the first place; maybe because he's still scared he'll turn into Marcus.

Either way she didn't tell him to go, didn't even push the issue. In fact what she said implies just the opposite. If he can still hurt her, she still loves him. It's a grim realization, but it's makes something flicker hopefully inside of him and he's going to cling to it until it gets ripped away.

And if she won't give him a chance, well he'll just have to make his own, rearrange the lines to create a new path.

* * *

Tris isn't exactly enthusiastic about the idea to go to the park, but Shauna was right to point out it's probably one of the last somewhat pleasant days before it snows, and she doesn't really think Shauna and Zeke were giving her much of a choice anyway. Tobias hovered quietly until she pulled on her coat and boots, not giving an opinion either way, but offered her his arm all the same.

She doesn't really 'walk' anymore. Her gait is definitely more of a 'waddle', and she feels heavy and unsteady on her feet, though she doesn't have to rely on Tobias too much. She's a little breathless when they get to the park, the baby making it hard to breath, and even harder to sit down on the grass with anything resembling grace.

Zeke and Shauna sit down a little ways away, Zoey scampering off to play in the banks of brightly colored leaves carpeting the dead grass. "How long do we need to keep them here?" Zeke mumbles, shooting a glance at Tris and Tobias as he lifts Shauna out of her wheelchair and sets her carefully on the ground.

"About an hour," Shauna murmurs back. It's a little ridiculous because they can't be overheard, but they're not taking any chances because Christina has been planning this surprise baby shower for weeks and neither want to face her wrath if they do something to screw it up.

Their attention is momentarily drawn to Tris and Tobias, the sound of her tinkling laugh ringing through the chilly October air. They both have smiles on their faces, and while Tobias is looking a little self conscious, Tris is looking a little flushed at whatever he said. "Well that's better," Zeke comments, a smile turning up his lips too.

"Good thing. Who knows what Tris is going to do when she gets home and finds her apartment bedecked in crepe paper streamers and balloons," Shauna points out, and then they're laughing too.

They wait to leave until Zoey tires herself out and Christina (hopefully) has the time she needs to set everything up. They meander their way back to the Pire, Zeke and Shauna and Zoey charading their way to their own apartment for a few minutes to pick up their gift before following after Tris and Tobias.

"I was thinking about going to the Italian place for dinner," Tobias says once they're alone. It took a lot of careful persuasion and more than a little begging, but in the weeks since Tris' cold they've been having dinner together on her nights off. Not exactly dates, but not exactly not dates either.

"Sounds good," Tris says around a yawn. Lately it seems like that's all she does: sleep and eat.

"Want to take a nap first?"

She shakes her head. "I'm more hungry than tired. Just give me a few minutes to wash up," she says as the elevator doors slide open on her floor. He follows along as she waddles down the hall, hangs a step back as she fits the key to the door, and nearly startles out of his skin when it opens and a dozen people yell "surprise!" from inside.

Tris goes statue still and watches through narrowed eyes as Christina bounds forward, her expression torn to between devious triumph and a silent apology. "I'm going to murder you in your sleep," Tris hisses at her, and when she catches sight of Zeke and Shauna behind her she adds, "and you two are next on the list."

"No stupid baby shower games," Christina solemnly swears as she holds Tris at arms length. "And you don't even have to open your presents while you have an audience if you don't want to, okay?"

She looks up at Tobias ready to threaten him next, but he's clearly as stunned as she is. The fact that she's got an ally in her displeasure makes the whole thing a lot more bearable. "Okay," Tris sighs, turning back to Christina. "Let's get this torture over with."

Tobias leans down, putting his lips to her ear. "I'll throw them all out. Just say the word." She gives him a wane smile in response, shaking her head. Even though he doesn't say it he makes a point of always being at her side as they work their way through the room, receiving hugs and well wishes from their friends.

Tris seats herself in one corner of the couch, Tobias next to her with an arm protectively around her shoulders. It doesn't do much to keep her from being the center of attention, but it does keep everyone from touching her belly; other than Zoey, Tobias is the only one who she lets do that.

He catches sight of Jason milling around the kitchen with a couple of other guys he recognizes as coworkers serving up bowls of beef stew and slicing loaves of fresh bread. There's a beautifully decorated cake sitting in pride of place on the breakfast bar. It's iced in white, a bounty of fall colored fondant leaves contrasting against it and interspersed with scenes of children at play.

They eat and drink and at some point Zeke breaks out the story of how Tobias putting the moves on Tris resulted in him throwing knives at her head, which leaves Shauna looking like she's going to smack him, but Tris laughing. When the attention threatens to get to be too much Tobias makes a point to mention the amazing job Tori did painting the nursery _and if you haven't seen it you really should_. Most everyone takes a trip in there, and even those who don't can hear Tori preening and her long-winded lecture on color theory.

"Thanks," Tris whispers, bumping his shoulder affectionately. Over the top of her head he sees Jason watching their exchange and looking like he'd like to throw some knives himself. Tobias can't help smiling a little smugly at that.

Despite Christina's earlier promise, she does goad Tris into opening the presents piled up on the coffee table. Tris is almost positive Christina sent out a memo or something with a strict list of rules detailing all the things she wants to avoid because there isn't a thing that screams 'Dauntless' amid all the gifts. Tobias can't help the smile breaking across his face when Tris unwraps a small box to reveal a pair of baby-sized shoes that are identical to the ones he wear.

Eventually they clear a spot for the cake, and Tris sighs sadly as Jason sets it down on the table. "It's too pretty to eat." And that little comment is the most successful he's been all night in drawing her attention.

"Hopefully it tastes as good as it looks," Jason says, handing her a slice and giving her a winning smile. "I haven't made anything other than chocolate cake in years."

Tobias has to fight rolling his eyes as he accepts his own slice. As much as he hates to admit it, it is good. The chocolate mousse between the faintly almond flavored cake is delicate and delicious in a way Dauntless cake isn't.

As the party winds down people start to drift out the door. Christina cleans up the piles of wrapping paper and ushers Zeke and Uriah into the kitchen to wash the dirty dishes. Jason carefully wraps up the leftovers and puts them in the fridge, smiling when Tris calls out that there better be some of that cake left because it's her new favourite. There's an awkward goodbye on his side, and a politely friendly one on hers, but it does at least save Tobias the trouble of literally throwing him out the door like he was thinking he might have to.

"Do you forgive me?" Christina asks as she follows the last straggler out, uncharacteristically nervous.

"Yes. Now go home before I change my mind," Tris smirks.

Once the door closes behind her Tris sags back against the couch with a little groan. "Thank God that's over with." She plants a hand on his knee and starts pushing herself up, a task made much easier by Tobias hands on his hips steadying her. "I should put this stuff away," she says, gathering up a pile of clothes.

Tobias picks up Tori's gift - a basket with a petting zoo of stuffed woodland animals in keeping to the theme of the nursery -, and follows after her. He makes another trip back, piling the clock that also serves as a nightlight and sound machine and thermometer into the funny foam thing meant to bathe a baby in, right along with a gift basket of toiletries and even more clothes.

He can't help watching Tris carefully fold the clothes, a look of contentment on her face. When he hands smooths across her shoulders she turns to say something to him, but whatever it is, is cut off by his lips on hers. He hasn't kissed her in months and there's a second where she goes rigid at the contact. Before he can pull away and say every apology he can think of, her hand slips under his shirt to rest at the small of his back just like it always did, her body relaxing against his just like it always did.

It's not reconciliation, he knows that, but it's at least another step towards that end.

* * *

**A/N: Don't worry that's the only major appearance of my OC. Next chapter, Benjamin is born. yay! Thanks everyone for your reviews/favourites/follows and everyone who's hopped over to Tumblr and sent me asks and fanmail (link in profile). I probably come off goofy when I respond to them, but I can't help being socially inept even on the internet, so just know I appreciate every single one of them. **


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: So this got long.**

* * *

At Tris' thirty-nine week prenatal visit Dr. Gonzales tells her she can go into labor anytime now. But she doesn't. Week forty and her due date slip by, but Benjamin seems perfectly content to stay where he is. The doctor says that is normal, it could be something as simple as miscalculating her due date, but even if that's not the case maybe the baby just needs a little more time. _He'll let you know when he's ready. Relax._

As week forty-one starts creeping towards week forty-two she starts having small moments of sheer panic that something is wrong, aided and abetted by the doctor casually announcing that if this goes on much longer they'll have to medically induce labor. Benjamin's not moving as much now as he used to, but that's normal. She knows it. Logically, she knows it. Every baby book, the doctor, Tobias, everyone tells her it's normal. But all she can think about when Benjamin is so still is that he's slowly dying inside of her. She bites her nails down to the quick as she sleeps and Tobias has to talk her down from tears and demands of an immediate c-section.

He starts sleeping on her couch, and reads her to sleep every night. Normally it goes a long way towards calming her, but there's nothing soothing about his voice or the story of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy tonight. It's late and she's tired, but with the baby sitting heavily inside of her, it's hard get comfortable enough to sleep. And she's sick to her stomach so much lately it's almost like having morning sickness all over again. The doctor says all that's normal too. Tris closes her eyes against the swoop of nausea in her stomach and the pinching ache of cramps that follow and roll down through her abdomen to her back. Tobias hand wraps around hers, warm and steady, and when she opens her eyes he's watching her with concern. "I'm fine," she says. "Keep reading."

Tobias does as she asks, finally putting the book away when she rolls onto her side like she does when she's ready to sleep. He shifts to get off the bed, but her hand tightens around his. "Stay," she says quietly, her features pinched.

Tris has never asked him to stay with her. Even his sleeping on the couch was an unspoken decision between them. Tobias reaches out, tucking her hair behind her ear and trailing her hand across her cheek and trying not to show the panic he can feel bubbling up inside of him at her request. "Are you okay?"

"It's nothing, just... stay."

He kicks his shoes off and lays down facing her, hand smoothing up and down her arm. "What's nothing?"

"I just feel... off," she says haltingly, trying to find the right words. "Cramps and kind of sick to my stomach and my back is _killing_ me." All that is easy to describe. What's harder to describe is the sort of nervous thrumming around her. It's the same feeling that makes your hair stand on end when you sense something coming before it actually happens, and the times she's felt it before haven't boded well.

"Do you think you're going into labor?"

In the dim light spilling out of the bathroom he sees her frown. "Maybe." The doctor warned her that she might mistake cramps for contractions, and since she's had menstrual cramps that have hurt worse than this...

Tobias rolls over, reaching for the phone they rarely ever use on the bedside table before Tris can protest because his biggest fear lately is that they won't make it to the infirmary on time, that Tris will be stuck somewhere helpless, or with only him to help her give birth. The obstetrics doctor on-call in the infirmary can only tell them they have to wait and see because it could be a false labor or the real thing. Until then doctors orders are to stay home and rest because they can't make her any more comfortable in the infirmary than she is now. "Well that was pointless," he snaps as he hangs up the phone. "He couldn't tell me anything more than the baby books have."

"You've been reading baby books?" Tris voice is a little disbelieving, but the smile on her face is more indulgent and amused than anything else.

"Yeah."

"And what did they say?"

"That you don't need a doctor until your contractions are ten minutes apart and you can't walk or talk through them, or your water breaks."

Tris can't help being a little impressed, first that he read the books, and secondly that he memorized them.

"At least if this is happening they probably won't have to induce you," he says, trying to find the silver lining.

_"If_ it's real labor," she points out.

He feels her pulse quicken under the thin skin of her neck where his hand is resting, the realization settling over them both that in a few short hours Benjamin could be born. Tris expects to feel relieved, but all she feels is a certain terror that starts in her toes and steadily works its way up. This baby is real. She's felt him, loved him, but he'll be real in a different way, a new way, and it's terrifying.

It feels like her pregnancy has been defined by fear; from the fear of Tobias' reaction when she found out to the fear that Benjamin won't be healthy. But now those fears feel like the fears of a child, in a literal and symbolic sense because the new fears that replace them are so immediate. What if something goes wrong? What if she dies? What if Benjamin does? She thinks about the pain and blood of birth, of her own slight frame breaking under the stress of it.

But the only fear that really matters, the one that cleanses all the other from her mind and the only one that eeks past her lips is, "what if I don't love him?" Her voice sounds broken and tremulous and she realizes she's on the verge of tears. Tris doesn't know how to be a mother. Books and birthing classes can't teach her how to love this tiny life she's created with Tobias.

"You already do." Tobias' voice is soft, certain, and reassuring.

"Because he's a part of me," she says, her voice a tight and painful counterpoint to his. "What happens after?" She can feed him and clothe him and protect him, but what does that matter if she can't _love_ him?

Tobias reaches out, his hands as tender as his voice. "He'll still be a part of you. You'll still love him." There are very few things he's been certain of in his life, but he's never doubted this for a moment. Tris will love their son, will be the kind of mother he wishes he had, of that he has no doubt.

He gets up, circling the bed so he can lay behind her and rub some of the pain out of the small of her back. "Try to relax," he says against her shoulder. His fingers cramp after a while, but he keeps massaging until the realization that he referred to Benjamin as 'their son' nearly knocks him senseless.

At first Benjamin was an 'it', and then 'the baby, occasionally 'Tris' baby', and eventually 'Benjamin'. But now he's 'their son', and even though there's a fleeting urge to run from it, after that passes he has to blink back tears. 'Their son'. The emotions those two simple words said together create is something he's never felt before. Something good and warm that doesn't have name, but fills him completely.

When he feels Tris wince in pain he wraps his arms around her, pulls her close and tries to give her some of his strength the same way he did when he put her on his back and ran through the halls of Erudite. This is what love is, being strong for someone else, not because they're weak, but because sometimes they need the strength of others to be strong themselves.

"You should sleep," she says when she relaxes, her voice not nearly as strangled with fear as it was before.

"I will if you will."

"I don't think that's going to happen," she chuckles.

"What can I do to help?"

"Just this. This is good," she says quietly.

They stay that way for a few hours, dozing but never really getting any true sleep since every time a fresh round of cramps rolls through Tris she goes rigid in Tobias' arms and it effectively keeps them both awake. When she gets restless and says she wants to walk around for a bit he gets up with her, holding her hand as they slowly pace around the apartment. It helps a little, eases some of the tension she can feel building in her hips and thighs.

And for a while that's enough. They make a circuit of the apartment and then lay back down, resting until Tris wants to walk again. The time between each set of cramps gets shorter, they get stronger, but still nothing she can't handle. The impending sunrise is just making the world outside lighten by a few degrees as they pass the windows when Tris groans from somewhere deep in her chest and nearly crushes Tobias' hand in hers. Her eyes are wide and scared when she looks up at him.

"Okay," she pants. "Okay... definitely not a false labor." Tobias has to fight the urge to scoop her up in his arms and carry her down to the infirmary. Once logic takes over again he checks his watch, noting the time and tries to urge Tris back to bed. "I need to walk," she says firmly. She's too keyed up to sit still anyway.

The next contraction comes twenty-three minutes later. By the time the sun fully in the sky they're coming at fifteen minute intervals and Tobias leaves Tris' side only to retrieve the bag she packed weeks ago and their shoes and jackets. When they come every twelve minutes she tells him she's ready to leave because she's a little worried they won't make it to the infirmary in time either.

Tobias expects to meet a flurry of activity once they get to there; half the faction and doctors and nurses and medical equipment rushing out to meet them because Tris is in _labor_, she's have a _baby_, and _this is a big deal_. Instead all they get is a bored looking nurse who seems to take her sweet time pulling Tris' file and putting her in a wheelchair to take her to the birthing room.

"I need Christina," she says when the next contraction passes, her cheeks splotchy from pain.

As much as it annoyed Tobias that Tris didn't let him come to any of her prenatal visits after she moved out, it doesn't bother him that Christina will be the one coaching her through labor. The only point of reference either of them have is Abnegation, and when a baby is born there the only people allowed in the room are the midwife and her helpers. Men wait outside until it's all over. It's just how these things are done. Accepted. Unquestioned. Though as Tobias leaves to collect Christina he can't help wondering if it's really what either he or Tris wants.

Ten minutes later he's back, Christina a few steps ahead of him and bursting through the door just in time to catch the tail end of whatever Dr. Gonzales is saying.

"...but I want to wait until your contractions are five minutes apart before we administer the epidural." Tris is chewing her lip so hard she looks like she's going to bite a hole in it, but she nods along with the doctor and absently lets one of the nurses stick an IV line in her arm. "One of the nurses or myself will be in to check on you every thirty minutes or so. If you need something use the call button," she says and then she's gone.

Tobias hovers by the door uncertainly. "Do you want me to stay... or?" He finally asks.

"It's okay. You can stay for a while," Tris says shyly. She knows he will leave eventually, but she's not quite ready for that yet.

It's a waiting game now and though it feels like no time at all to Tobias before her contractions start coming every five minutes, to Tris it feels like each one is a small eternity, like she barely recovers from one before the next one starts.

"I'd rather get shot again," she whines as the pain fades enough to allow her to talk. Her hand is damp and Tobias is pretty sure he felt something snap in his own when she clutched at it. He hates seeing her like this, and every time her face contorts with pain his heart feels like it's contracting painfully too.

The pain gets worse, doubles to something even worse than that and when Tobias rolls her over onto her side so the anesthesiologist can insert a needle into her spine she moans in relief. The epidural doesn't take the pain away completely, and she can still feel the intense pressure of the baby stretching her pelvis, but it's so much better than before. The doctor comes in to check her again and though it's awkward Tris tells him it's probably time for him to leave.

Zeke is waiting for him in the row of chairs just outside the door. "How did you know we were here?"

"Michael told everyone at breakfast."

"Fantastic," Tobias says dryly, dropping down into the seat next to him and gratefully accepting a cup of coffee. He has no doubt that once everyone finishes eating they'll all come here. Tris isn't up for that sort of attention right now, so maybe it's a good thing he's sitting outside the door like a guard dog.

"How long have you been up?"

"Never really got to sleep last night," he says, the question making him look down at his watch. With a shock he realizes it's been nearly nearly seven hours since he called the infirmary the night before.

"Well, if Tris' labor is anything like Shauna's you're not going to get any rest for a while."

"Jesus, I hope not." Tobias remembers sitting in the waiting room with their friends and family for what felt like days when Zoey was being born. In the end they delivered her through a c-section.

Zeke chuckles as the doctor steps out to the hall. "It will probably be another hour or so before she has to start pushing if you want to go eat," she says, a kind, patient smile on her face.

"I'm good," Tobias says, waving her off. Even if he was starving he has good reason to stay and a few minutes later his fears are justified when Michael and Uriah show up. Michael's visit is more desultory than anything - he's just stopping by on his way to work -, but Uriah seems intent to taking up their vigil. They watch silently as the doctor bustles back into Tris' room, followed by a couple of nurses a while later.

Shauna and Zoey are the next visitors and they find the three men playing cards as they wait. They stay until the groans coming from behind the door start to upset Zoey. They bother Tobias too, and not just because he knows Tris is in pain. Every time he hears her he's nine years old again, sitting in his grey living room in his grey clothes with his little hands clamped tightly over his ears in a vain attempt to block out his mother's screams, each one sending a tremor of fear up his staircased spine that leaves his whole body shaking.

When Shauna comes back with Tori instead of Zoey his palms are slick with sweat. He hunches in on himself, elbows digging into his knees and hands restlessly rubbing his neck. He can't focus on their conversation, the voices of his friends like the buzzing of insects around him, more an annoyance than anything else.

"You're not going to be in there with her?" Tori's voice sounds far away, and Tobias has to force himself to focus on her even though she's right next to him.

"It's one of their weird Abnegation things," Zeke answers before he can.

He's still surprised how much time is passing every time he looks down at his watch, but he feels second scrape across his nerves like broken glass leaving him raw. The sounds from behind the door wax and wane, and he feels like he's living and dying with them. "Why don't they give her more drugs," he snaps to no one, his last frayed nerve giving way when Tris goes from groaning to screaming through her teeth.

"She has to be able to feel when to push," someone says.

He shoulders his way out of the crowd of their friends and paces, his hands restlessly tugging through his hair, rubbing his neck, wrapping around himself. There's a part of him that wants to run out the door like he did when he was a child. And then he remembers what he came home to when he did.

Fraudulent or not Evelyn's 'death' defined his childhood and even though he knows it's totally irrational a part of truly believed that if he hadn't run away that day his mother wouldn't have died. It was superstitious and childish, but he never could shake that, even when he found out she didn't. But it's that more than anything that keeps him pacing the hall of the infirmary instead of running out the door now. Just the thought of Tris dying makes him feel like he's drowning, reeling around in an abyss and desperately struggling towards the surface, hoping he finds the warmth and light of life instead of the consuming darkness of death.

Zeke grabs his elbow and pulls him down the hall a few more feet, using his body to hide the flask his hands Tobias. "Drink," he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. Even if it did Tobias wouldn't. He winces as the liquor burns down his throat, mixes unpleasantly with the coffee in his stomach, but it does help, at least until Tris makes another pained noise.

"I can't listen to this anymore," Tobias says through gritted teeth, shoving the flask back at his friend. He storms through the door of the birthing room ready to scream at anyone and everyone whose fault it is that Tris is suffering. He's struck momentarily dumb though, taking in the scene that greets him.

Tris looks small and exhausted where she's leaning against the pillow with her eyes closed, hands gripping onto the rails of her bed so tightly her knuckles are white. Her hair has been pulled up into a ponytail, but it's falling loose, sticking to the sweat on her face. Christina's at her shoulder while the nurses buzz around the room busily helping the doctor who is on a stool between her bent legs.

"Just a little while longer and it will all be over," the doctor says, her arms hidden by the sheet strung across Tris' legs.

"Do you hear that?" Christina says, her voice nervous and full of forced enthusiasm. "It's almost over."

"Shut up," Tris snaps. "Why do you keep saying that?" Her eyes peel open slowly, painfully, and she catches sight of Tobias standing just inside the door. "_Oh God, Tobias_," she groans, her frustration and exhaustion peaking at the sight of him. "Get out!" She's struggling, feels like she failing and she doesn't want Tobias to see it anymore now than she did when he watched her struggle as an initiate.

But the words are barely out of her mouth before she chokes on a sob and he's right there, pushing Christina out of his way, and forgetting why he's here in the first place. A nurse squawks that he needs to be wearing a mask and hospital gown, but he ignores her, wraps his arms around Tris so she can bury her face against his shoulder. "This baby is never coming out," she whimpers, voice quiet and tearful. "They keep saying that he is, but he's not."

No one catches the rest of the conversation that passes between them, just Tobias' tone of reassurance as his hand rubs between her shoulders, but whatever he says is enough to calm her. A minute later she dries her tears on his shirt and he pushes the hair out of her face before leaning his forehead against hers.

"Tris," Dr. Gonzales says sharply, "I can see his head now. I need you to focus, okay? A few more pushes and you'll be able to hold him."

She completely ignores the doctor. "Stay with me," She asks Tobias, her voice quiet and uncertain despite everything he's just said to her.

"Always." And like it did when they were laying in bed his strength gives her strength.

"On the count of three I need you to push. One... two... _three..."_

Tris grits her teeth, screams through them, muscles straining despite the burning pain between her legs. Tobias keeps an arm around her, and lets her crush his hand with one of hers as she pushes. Her body relaxes momentarily as she gasps for breath and then bears down again. Everyone is shouting instructions and encouragement at her, everyone but him because he doesn't know how she can stand it, trying to listen to them and bring their baby into the world at the same time.

It all happens so fast, Tris curling forward and straining and screaming one last time. Suddenly there's a baby screaming too, drowning out the voices of everyone else. Tris body goes limp in his arms and he lays her back against the pillows. He kisses every part of her that he can reach as her shoulders shake with the force of her tears, relief crashing down on her at the feel of Benjamin sitting on top of her stomach instead of inside it, at the sound of his wailing filling the room and his displeasure of this bright, cold, loud new world he's in.

The doctor taps Tobias on the shoulder, hands him a pair of surgical scissors and shows him where to cut the umbilical cord. Benjamin is small and red and wrinkled, his dark hair plastered to his forehead by the layer of mucus that covers him, but Tobias is sure he's the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. When he looks back up at Tris she's smiling and wiping away her tears so she doesn't miss a thing.

One of the nurses takes Benjamin across the room to measure and weigh him, to clean him up and wrap him up, and even though it's irrational Tris can't help feeling a little prickle of panic at the separation. "Is he okay?" she asks Tobias, her voice full of worry.

"He's fine," he says soothingly, but pecks a kiss to her forehead and goes to stand next to the nurse while she works on their son to keep watch all the same. Tobias counts fingers and toes while the nurse calls out that Benjamin weighs seven and a half pounds and is twenty inches long. His arms and legs flail around trying to fight her off as she puts drops in his eyes and a tiny diaper on his butt. Tobias knows the doctor is still working on Tris, delivering the afterbirth and cleaning her up, but she doesn't seem to be paying any more attention to it than he is since every time he looks up she's watching him and the nurse.

Benjamin is still crying as he's wrapped loosely in a blanket and placed in Tris arms, Tobias resuming his place at her side when the nurse steps away. "Hi, Benjamin," Tris coos, a smile splitting her face despite her tears and his. She keeps up a steady stream of murmurs until he quiets, finding comfort in the familiar sound of her voice. "He looks like you", Tris smiles up at Tobias when Benjamin opens his eyes to reveal the same dark blue irises his father has.

"See if you can get him to nurse," the doctor gently suggests, untying the front of Tris robe and helping her position the baby correctly. It takes a minute, but then he does, mouth closing around her and his tiny hand resting on her breast, fingers curling and uncurling like a happy cat as he eats.

"He's perfect, Tobias," Tris sighs, eyes flicking up to his for a moment before landing back on their son. She expected this part to be too weird, too much like when Tobias' mouth is on her to not be. And it is strange, but not for those reasons because even though the actions are similar they feel worlds apart. She feels sleepy and content, like she's the one eating a big meal and not the one providing it.

"You did so good, Tris," Tobias says, surprised to find his voice thick. He kisses her cheek, reaches out and stacks his hand on top of her where it's wrapped around Benjamin. Once he's nursed and burped Tris offers him up to Tobias so the nurses can lift her into a clean bed with fresh linens.

Benjamin whimpers a little at the jostling and momentary loss of contact, but Tobias cradles him against his chest and coos to him just like Tris did, hopeful that his son knows his voice as well as Tris' now that he's spent so many nights reading to them. When his eyes open to search out the source of the sound Tobias lifts him higher, bows over him to compensate for the poor vision every baby is born with. The infant gurgles unintelligibly, a hand finding one of Tobias fingers where it rests on his chest, curling around it like he's shaking hands, saying 'hello' even though he can't talk yet.

And the tears that Tobias has been holding back finally spill across his cheeks. He wants to wrap Benjamin up tight in his arms, to protect him because he's so small and fragile, bones as easily broken as glass. He silently promises him that he will never know the sting of a belt or the terror of a locked closet; that he and Tris will always love him and want him and protect him no matter what, and if anyone tries to hurt him they will destroy them.

When Tobias leans in to place gentle kisses to his cheek Benjamin makes a sound that so clearly says irritation at the rasp of his stubble that Tobias can't help laughing. It's watery and weak, but he brushes away the lingering wetness on his face with his free hand and sits down on the edge of the bed next to Tris. "Thank you, for him," Tobias says quietly, gently rocking the baby in his arms, watching with rapt attention as Benjamin's weak eyes take in as much as they can.

Whatever she is going to say in response is cut off by Christina peeking through the door. It's only now that he and Tris realize she disappeared after the baby was born. "You've got a whole crowd of people waiting out here, and we're getting a little impatient," she reminds them, her Candor honesty kept from being rude by the smile puffing up her cheeks.

Judging by the look on Tris' face he can tell it's not something she's sure she wants to deal with right now. "You don't have to see them if you don't want to," Tobias says, keeping his voice low enough that only Tris can hear him. "I'll tell them to come back tomorrow." _Or to just fuck right off and go away_, but he doesn't say that.

"It's fine," Tris says, though her voice says it isn't. Tobias puts Benjamin back in his mothers arms where he belongs and stands up, putting himself between his family and everything else as people pour into the room. He has a feeling he'll spend the rest of his life doing this.

Zeke pulls Tobias into a crushing hug as Christina and Shauna fawn over Tris and Benjamin. Tori is next and Harrison and Bud now too, followed closely by Uriah and Michael. Mercifully the visit only lasts a few minutes before a nurse wheels in a bassinet and reminds everyone that both mother and baby need to rest. And it's true that Tris is exhausted, but mostly she's grateful for the interruption just because the only people she wants right now is the one in her arms and the one at her side.

She holds on to Benjamin as the nurse checks her over, in awe of him. She pulls off the little knit cap someone stuck on his head and brushes her fingers across his dark hair. How she could ever have worried she wouldn't love him is a mystery to her because that's all she feels. Fierce, consuming, undeniable love filling up every part of her. She doesn't even want to put him in the bassinet, doesn't know if she can stand to have that much space between her and something she loves so much.

The nurse slips from the room once she's satisfied Tris isn't bleeding too much with a promise to come back later. Tris holds on to Benjamin for as long as she can but eventually she's just too tired. "A little help?" She asks since she still can't move much. She has Tobias wheel the bassinet as close as possible and then hands off Benjamin to him so he can settle him inside it.

"Are you still in that much pain?" He asks as he helps Tris roll onto her side. She's so used to sleeping this way now that she doesn't think she'll ever be able to sleep on her back again.

"Kind of. Mostly it's just hard to move from the waist down because the epidural hasn't worn off completely."

"They should have given you more," he grumps, remembering his annoyance from earlier. "You shouldn't have been in that much pain."

"I don't know," she says sleepily. "Once he was out I couldn't feel anything. If I wasn't so wrapped up in him I probably would have freaked out, thought I was paralyzed or something. Of course now that it's wearing off I want more."

"Do you want me to go get the nurse? See if she can give you something?" He asks, his face furrowing in worry.

"No," she sighs. "I just want to sleep."

"Okay."

"Lay down with me," she adds, her eyes drooping.

Tobias lays down behind her, carefully fitting himself into the space between her body and the bedrail, ending their day in much the same way as it began. "We'll go home soon," he murmurs into her hair, letting himself give in to the exhaustion he feels too. "A few days and then I'm taking my family home, where they belong," he adds, more to himself than her.

If he says anything else Tris doesn't hear it, but for the first time in nine months she feels whole and happy, and as she succumbs to sleep she finally lets herself believe the things Tobias said to her when she thought her pain was never going to end.

* * *

**A/N: To the reviewer who hoped that Benjamin's birth wouldn't be 'horrific'... I tend to think birth is horrific period, but when I wrote this my main concern was that I wanted it to be real. It annoys me to no end how romanticized some people write it and I wanted to avoid that.**

**Anyway, I'm debating what to do with this. I can just wrap it up with en epilogue, but I might write a few more chapters covering Ben's first year. I haven't decided yet. Either way THANK YOU all so much for your enthusiastic response. I know there's probably going to be some people grumping that I didn't write the dialog for what Tobias said to Tris, but I purposefully kept that vague; sometimes it's just better that way. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: So yeah... I've been slaving at an epilogue for this for like, a month. Finally last night I decided to screw it and started over. And mercifully I found my writing groove for this fic again. Yay for that. I will be posting part of my original epilogue to my Tumblr for those who are interested. So... since I wrote this in a few hours and it's unbeta'd and writing happy is not my strong suit I apologize in advance if it's not 100% perfect. But it did get so long that I'm splitting it in two parts. Thank you all for the reviews (especially), favourites, follows, and Tumblr asks/fanmail for this fic. And a great big THANK YOU to Wee Kraken for generously beta-ing my original draft of this, and generally putting up with my crankiness at having writers block. **

**Important stuff - This picks up a little when Ben is 2 years old, and covers (in this chapter) until he's nearly 4. **

* * *

Tobias' feet impact with the pavement, hard, sending tendrils of pain up his legs. It's been too long since he's had to use the trains to get around the city, he's out of practice.

"Come on, old man," Zeke teases, prodding him in the back and urging him towards the Pire.

"Ha, ha, motherfucker. You're the same age I am," he shoots back, knocking his body into Zeke's with enough force to let him know he's not joking, but not enough to really hurt him.

"Yeah, but I look _good_," Zeke says, running his hand through his hair, preening ridiculously. It's enough to make Tobias crack a smile for the first time all day.

And it has been a long day. A couple times a year Evelyn gets a hair up her ass and decides to have a temper-tantrum, refusing to speak to anyone from Dauntless that isn't Tobias. There is a part of it that is misguided maternal instinct, trading on the one card she has left to play to see her son. But forcing her company upon him doesn't really do anything to endear her to Tobias. There is too much bitter history and bad blood there for forgetting or forgiving, especially now that he has Benjamin as a point of reference.

It wasn't easy be a father at first; sometimes it still isn't easy. His fears didn't magically disappear the day Ben was born and the damage Tobias did to his relationship with Tris left many deep scars, but he has never once considered leaving them, no matter how bad things got. So maybe it is only natural that every time Evelyn tries to plead her case - as she always does no matter what bullshit excuse brings him there - that all it does is push him further away. The idea that he could abandon his son, leave him with someone violent and abusive, is unconscionable. He doesn't know how Evelyn can live with herself knowing that is exactly what she did.

He and Zeke ride the elevator up to their apartments in silence, but it's much different than the tense silence they shared on the train back here. When they part ways, Zeke claps him on the back. There are no words, but Tobias knows he's telling him not to let Evelyn get to him, to stop living in the past and focus on his family because that's what matters now, as he has so many times over beer and billiards.

And he knows the best way to repay his best friend for always being there to listen to him - and occasionally smack some sense into him - is to do just that. Not that he wants to do anything else right now; days like this routinely end with him burying himself in Tris to tell her he's sorry and he loves her in the best way he can think of, and falling asleep in the rocking chair in Ben's room, watching over him.

He creeps into his apartment. The lights are out, but he knows Tris will be waiting up for him. Not that it much matters, the full moon shines brilliantly through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating her in silvery light where she's laying in bed, watching wispy clouds scuttle across the sky when he walks into their bedroom. He is surprised to see Ben curled up against her though, dead to the world. Unless there's a thunderstorm he usually doesn't end up in Tris and Tobias' bed.

"Rough night?"

"Hmm... the Terrible Two's strike again," Tris replies noncommittally. "I think he's out for the night though if you want to put him back to bed," she offers.

Tobias frowns, pulling off his socks and shoes and shimmying out of his jeans. One of the worst fights he had with Tris was the week after they brought Ben home. They couldn't get him to sleep in his crib and Tris had begged him to get a bassinet like one in the infirmary that tucked up against the bed because at least Ben slept there. Sleep deprivation, stress, and jealousy made him snap that 'our bedroom is _our bedroom_. Benjamin has his own room and he's just going to have to learn to sleep in it and not our bed so mommy is only an arms length away'.

It wasn't his proudest moment and it's one that has obviously made Tris a little wary having the baby sleep in their bed, though really he's not really a baby anymore. Now he's a sturdy toddler who seems to be learning new words on a daily basis, though his favourite lately has been 'no'.

"It's fine," Tobias says, carefully leaning over to kiss Tris before he settles himself on the bed so Benjamin is between them. "So what happened here?"

Some things never change; after a rough day Tobias would still rather hear about her's than talk about his. But she does choose her words carefully, well aware that Tobias tends to twist things around when it comes to being what he considers a good father. "He's just used to his routine, you know? Used to you giving him a bath and being here when he goes to bed. It threw him off that you weren't home, and he was already tired and cranky from playing too hard trying to keep up with Zoey at the park."

Tris tactfully leaves out that after dinner, all through his bath she was treated to Benjamin's stubborn, silent treatment. And that twenty minutes after he sullenly put his back to her and pouted that Daddy wasn't there to read him his bedtime story he stumbled into her room, crawled on the bed, and promptly cried out his bad mood before falling asleep.

Even so she can see irritation flood his features. "Hey," she says softly, forcing him to focus on her and not his overly critical conscience. "It was just one of those days, Tobias. It's not the first time it's happened and it won't be the last. Besides, you're here now and that's what matters."

Tobias sighs gustily, turning onto his side to wrap an arm around Ben and Tris. "Yeah, I am."

* * *

"Are you going to be good for your Auntie Christina today?" Tobias asks quietly, hands lightly resting on Benjamin's shoulders as he crouches in front of him while Tris rattles off a list of do's and don'ts to Christina.

Ben's expression turns serious, full of promises of good behavior for his favourite aunt. "I'll be good," he vows.

Tobias plants a kiss between his eyebrows and tickles his sides lightly before standing up and meeting the knowing little smirk plastered on Christina's face.

"And you were afraid to be a father," she scoffs before turning her gaze towards Ben. "We're going to have fun today, aren't we?"

Now that the moment of solemnity has passed he's bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager for whatever Christina has planned for them. "Yep," he chirps, winding his ways through his parents legs and grabbing Christina's outstretched hand.

"Did you remind your daddy not to wear your mommy out before her birthday party?" She asks with a devilish grin.

"Christina!" Tris admonishes, cheeks burning from embarrassment as Christina cackles and Ben looks completely confused.

But once the door is closed Tobias wastes no time in doing exactly that. This has been the trickiest part of their relationship in some ways. The obvious complication of limited privacy with Ben around is part of it, but at first it was much more complicated than that.

It was four months after Benjamin was born before suggestively ran his hand up her hip, pulling her nightgown up as they laid in bed one night. Before Ben was born that was really all he had to do to initiate anything between them. Stiff or not, once they perfected the way their bodies fit together the need for it was insatiable, all consuming.

That night though she gently pushed his hand away and pulled her nightgown back down. Two months of her artfully dodging him culminated in her finally spurning him with pointed words, including the phrase 'I don't trust you', that left him limp and gutted. Communication has never been their strong suit, so instead of talking their problems out like adults, they screamed them at each other as he stood on one side of the room and her on the other.

His festering jealousy that Benjamin claimed all her attention, that whenever he so much as whimpered Tris would drop everything and run to him seemed petty in comparison to her disgust with the zebra-stripe stretch marks and baby weight that clung to her hips and thighs; it seemed juvenile in comparison to her fears of getting pregnant again.

Although Tris often marveled that her mother had somehow managed to care for two babies so close together - something she swore she could never do -, Tobias knew what her real fear was. He knew it was his reaction to another pregnancy that she feared; that she was terrified he'd leave her again, for real, forever this time.

He slept on the couch for a week after that fight, not because he was angry, but because he was repentant. Tris couldn't even talk to him about the things they said to each other that night for a solid month without angry tears stinging her eyes.

It was a slow crawl back to something resembling what they had before that had more to do with repairing their damaged intimacy and trust than actual sex. Still, even though neither commented on it, Tobias always took a moment to reverentially kiss the physical scars pregnancy left on her body, at first to reassure her, and later to pay tribute to the way she had kept their son safe and healthy and loved.

And he does that today after he lifts off the loose cotton tank-top dress she sleeps in and lays her down gently onto their bed. Since it's her birthday and they have some precious privacy he devotes considerable time to having his head between her legs. By the time he's done his scalp hurts from her insistently tugging on it as she arched and keened under his careful ministrations.

Tobias licks his way to her hip, nipping on the soft flesh surrounding the bone. Pregnancy forever altered the lanscape of her body, but it's not all bad; the hint of womanly curves left behind only add to her beauty, he thinks. And nearly three years after Benjamin's birth she's just as strong and nimble as she was before; something he takes full advantage of.

Afterwards, with Tris half draped across his chest and sweat melding them together she nuzzles into the silky skin of his neck, that tender spot under his ear that seems designed just for her. "Christina was right. You're not scared anymore," she mumbles, sated and sleepy.

Tobias chuckles lightly. "If that's what you're thinking about right now I didn't do my job," he teases.

He feels her lips pull into a smile against his flesh, and her hand tilts his face more firmly against hers. "You did your job just fine. I'm looking forward to a repeat performance, but I'm going to need a nap first," she quips and then yawns.

As her limbs grow heavy against him, Tobias traces shapes on her back as she dozes and he mulls her words. But he must doze off too at some point because he wakes to Tris perched on top of him and peppering his chest with kisses. When he finishes what she started he's the one who picks up the thread of their conversation again.

"I'm still scared. There's days when I second guess everything I do with him, worrying if I'm fucking up, but it's not like it was," he confesses.

"So do I," Tris says. "It's normal. And it seems to me the people who do the most damage are the ones who either know and don't care, or are so convinced they're doing the right thing they never second guess themselves."

Tobias doesn't have to think hard about which category Marcus fell into. The term 'self righteous' was never so accurately applied to a man as it was to him.

"I know you didn't want Benjamin-"

Tobias opens his mouth to protest, but Tris slaps her hand over his mouth.

"It's okay. You can admit to me that you didn't want him at first, I was there, I lived it afterall. But since he's been born you've always been there for him, and I know how much you love him now. But I think... I don't know... you needed him. You always said you struggled with kindness, but you don't, not with him anyway."

"And I do with you?" There's just enough of a teasing tone that Tris could pass off his comment as a joke if she wanted to, but under that is something rare, something she's only witnessed a handful of times; the vulnerability that Tobias keeps well hidden within himself. Those five words, that simple, silly question when wrapped in those tones says something else entirely. He asking her if he's cruel to her, if he hurts her, if she stays with him because she thinks Ben needs a father more than she needs a lover.

She peels her head off his sweaty chest, tracing the plans of his face with her fingers as he watches her with those fathomless blue eyes. "No, you're kind to me too," she says. "Sometimes we're just stupid and hurt each other when we don't mean to... and sometimes when we mean to," she adds in a whisper. "It doesn't mean we don't love each other though."

Eventually they force each other out of bed and into the shower so they don't go to Tris' birthday dinner smelling of sweat and sex. Tris even goes so far as to don the lacy black dress and kitten heels Christina gifted her early, but that might just be because there is a threat implicit in the ribbon wrapped boxes.

When they get to the italian restuarant in the Pit - Tris' favourite - Benjamin squirms out of Christina's arms where he'd been pouting and straight into Tris', babbling about how Auntie Christina took him swimming, but then how she was very mean and made him eat carrots with his lunch of grilled cheese sandwich. He's just three years old, so not everyone can understand him, but Tris doesn't seem to miss a thing.

And somewhere between the entree of baked ziti and dessert of tiramisu, watching the way Ben and Tris seem to light each other up as he sits on her lap and eats off her plate he finally gets why people - some people anyway - purposefully have kids. Benjamin is how much they love each other, shaped of muscle and bone and flesh. The living, breathing embodiment of their love.

It makes him wonder how different things would be if she got pregnant again.

* * *

It seems like Benjamin has claimed half the pots and pans as bath toys. They tried buying him proper ones - little wind up sharks that could cruise around in the water, special crayons for scribbling on the sides of the tub -, but nothing is so entertaining as their kitchenware.

"Hey, hey," Tobias squawks as Benjamin drenches his shirt with bathwater, "keep that in the tub."

Benjamin giggles madly, pushing up on his knees and and sloshing even more water out as he grabs his father's face and plants a very wet kiss on his stubbly cheek.

"Come on, Monster, time to get out. Mommy's going to think we've drowned in here if you don't get out soon."

Some nights it's still a struggle to get him out - Tris occasionally jokes that they should have named him Jonah he likes water so much -, but tonight he gets out without a fuss. He's big enough now that he helps dress himself, though the snaps on his flannel pajamas still take a great deal of concentration.

While Tobias mops up the water on the floor and sets the bathroom straight Benjamin barrels into the living room where Tris is working on her laptop, catching up on a few things she didn't get to while she was busy meeting with the representatives from Candor.

"You're getting so big now Ben," he hears her comment, and then her footsteps heading towards his bedroom on one side of the jack-and-jill bathroom. When she looks into it she has to stifle a laugh, but doesn't say anything about it, instead carrying Ben over to his bookshelf and helping him pick out which story he'd like to hear before bed.

When Tobias joins them Benjamin is tucked into bed, his mop of dark, curly hair stark against the pale green of his sheets. Since he was a baby - since the week they brought him home - this has been their routine. Tobias gives him his bath, and then they tuck him into bed and read him a story. It seemed ridiculous when he was so little, but the doctor was right - Ben learned to associate those things with sleep and Tris and Tobias are sure it made bedtime go much more smoothly than it otherwise would have.

By the time he finishes reading _The Cat in the Hat_ Benjamin is out like a light. "You know these Dr. Suess books should serve as a warning for the dire consequences of too much Amity bread," Tobias says sarcastically as they turn on Ben's nightlight and exit the room as quietly as possible. They go back out to the living room, pushing the coffee table out of the way and laying across the plush rug in front of the fireplace like they did before Ben was born to share a beer and talk about every and nothing.

Tobias thought he found happiness when he found friends in Dauntless, thought he knew it when Tris told him she loved him, but on night like these - with the Tris' head on his stomach and her quiet laugh ringing in the air and their son safe and happy - he knows he was wrong. And if he thinks about how close his own fears and stupidity brought him to losing that it scares him worse than Marcus wielding a belt.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Well, this is it, the end. Sorry it took me so long to finish, but last week was the. worst. **

**So, someone (anonymously) suggested on my Tumblr that I write a follow up to this around the time Benjamin is 16. I actually like that idea a lot, and though I don't know when I'll get around to it, it's definitely something I'm planning on because it's a great perspective into my personal head!cannon when it comes to Tris and Tobias' kids. Also, there's a lemony part of this that due to the "T" rating I cut that I'm posting to my tumblr. **

**As always THANK YOU for the reviews (especially), favourites, and follows. I loved writing this story so much, and I am overwhelmed by the response to it. **

* * *

Benjamin and Zoey are crowded around the coffee table, looks of concentration on their face as they usher their little plastic gingerbread men through Candyland, smiles tilting up their lips as they traverse the cupcake commons, and scowls when they get stuck in the molasses swamp. But it's Tris that holds his attention. The way she keeps leaning over the top of Ben from her perch on the couch while he sits on the floor, like she just can't not play the game; the way her fingers card through his hair affectionately; the way she smiles at his triumphs and commiserates with his failures.

He's thought a lot about having another baby in the year since Tris' last birthday, at first furtive and fearful, then stoic and logically weighing the pros and cons, and finally with a peculiar longing that's almost a physical ache. And tonight it's like fate is showing him how it could be; Zoey and Benjamin have grown up close as siblings after all.

Tobias isn't a fool, he knows it won't always be good, that moments like these might be the exception rather than the rule, but still. The longing is there if he's honest with himself. More and more, and especially when Tris is being like this. Not that he even knows how to broach the subject with her because what's he supposed to say? It's going to be harder to convince her that he wants this than it was admitting it to himself and words have never been his forte.

But he doesn't know how much longer he can keep swallowing the words every time they creep up his throat, ready to fly off his tongue at the worst possible moments. He needs to talk to her. And he's made that decision before, to bring it up, to talk, to communicate. It's always ended the same way with him saying "Tris" and her saying "what?" and him saying "nothing" in a perverse reversal of their conversations before Ben.

He's jolted out of his reverie by Benjamin jumping up and down and exclaiming "I won, I won, I won!" before launching himself into his mother's embrace for a congratulatory kiss while Zoey pouts and demands a rematch.

"Pleeease, Mom?" Benjamin begs, framing Tris' face in his little hands, equally eager for another round once he's done celebrating his win.

She smiles at him indulgently. "You know when you have a sleepover part of it is actually sleeping, Ben," Tris teases.

"Just one more," Ben whines.

"Then bed?"

"Then bed," Benjamin confirms, already wiggling his way back down to his spot on the floor.

A half hour, and another round of _Candyland_ later, there's the usual struggle to get Zoey and Benjamin to bed despite the latter's promises. But they do... eventually. Tobias knows as soon as he's out of the room they will be whispering to each other like mad, but he's not going to stomp back in there and threaten them to be quiet every five seconds.

As Tris fills up the sink with hot, soapy water to wash the dinner dishes Tobias comes up behind her, resting his hands on her hips. His lips linger on her neck, eyes drifting down to the flock of ravens painted under the graceful curve of her collarbone, especially the tiny one inked next to his bird. Unbidden one hand slips around, resting briefly on the spot new life would take root if given the chance. He doesn't let his hand linger and call attention to itself, instead shifting beside her and reaching for the dishtowel, ready to dry after she washes.

It's not until they finish the dishes and are heading to bed that either of them notice the far off rumble of thunder and the electric blue flickering flash of lightning through the windows. Both of them look of them look at Benjamin's door pensively, half expecting him to come shooting out of it and into their arms; thunder and lightning is still his biggest fear.

When nothing happens Tobias pushes past her, brushing a kiss to her cheek as he does. "I'll check on him." He's not sure what he expects to find, but what he's met with is endearingly sweet. Zoey's curled up with Benjamin in his bed, talking to him. Tobias can't catch her words, just the timber, which is soft and soothing. He leaves them be.

Tris has already darkened the apartment and is crawling into bed when he catches up with her. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Zoey's cuddled up with him," Tobias says, shedding his pants and pulling off his socks before joining her.

"She'll be a good big sister when the time comes," Tris says, sleepy and honest.

Tobias stills, heart in his throat. _Well, it's now or never, isn't it?_ he goads himself. Tris is soft and pliant when he wraps his arms around her. He forces himself into stillness though it feels like revolt with his nerves thrumming with nervous energy.

"Have you ever thought about it... having more kids?"

Tris' reaction is instantaneous. Her muscles tense, her breath catches in her throat, her heart pounds wildly like it's trying to escape her. "No," she exhales shakily. "I... I never thought I'd have Benjamin. I'm happy with that, with him."

For a second he has a vision of her cloaked in grey, hair in a severe bun and a limpid smile on her face. Placid. Imperturbable. Abnegation. He can practically hear Marcus' voice reminding him that desire is the root of all suffering, and acceptance is it's cure. He wants to call her Beatrice and wonders how the Abnegation ever got anything done without willingly giving a straight answer to anything.

Tall buildings, closets, murder, and Marcus suddenly don't seem so bad. "I do," he bravely admits.

Those two words hang heavy in the crook of Tris' neck, right where Tobias breathed them out, and now that they're out he can't take them back, can't will them away. Can't hide them inside him anymore. So he presses on, determined to at least get an honest answer if nothing else.

"We should have had this conversation a long time ago, Tris, and we never did. Every time the subject came up I'd avoid it and you'd let me," he points out.

"And if we hadn't been stupid and drunk and had unprotected sex on your twenty-first birthday we never would have had Ben, and you would have been happy with that," she snaps back. Tobias pinches his lips into a thin, hard line at the reminder.

Tris sits up, scooting to the edge of the bed and throwing her legs over, her demeanor softening now that there's some distance between them. "I loved you, it was enough," she sniffs. "I didn't want a family with anyone else, and now I have that."

"I want it with you too, and I'm okay if it's just you and me and Ben forever." Tobias moves closer, giving her, her space, but still reaching out to dip his fingers under her shirt and trace her spine. "But if you want kids - plural - I would be okay with that too. I know you don't believe me, but I'm not who I was then. You and Ben... you're everything, changed everything for me. You won't be alone this time. I'll be there, every step of the way. I'm just asking for that chance."

* * *

Amity looks like something out of a painting. The brilliant cerulean sky contrasting prettily with verdant fields and the earthy brown of the buildings. After the war they started opening the farm up one weekend a month, encouraging the other factions to visit as a means of fostering friendship between them. Tris thinks the idea is a little pie-in-the-sky, but she doesn't want Benjamin to grow up only knowing the dingy, decaying grey of the city so every chance she gets she brings him here.

Tris brings up the rear of their little line while Tobias heads it, Benjamin between them. It's hard to believe that come winter her baby will be five years old, that in just a few months he'll be starting school. It seems like just yesterday he was taking his first unsteady steps, learning his first words.

He's so like Tobias, not just in looks - though there is no mistaking they're Eaton's what with the dark hair and deep blue eyes they share -, but personality too. They are both quiet; not shy, just observant. Curious, funny, loyal... that all comes from Tobias right along with his looks, Tris thinks. He has Tobias' temper too, and her stubbornness, which has been... interesting.

But she thinks Benjamin was exactly who Tobias needed to get over his fears, though it took a long time, even after they brought him home. He tried to hide it from Tris, but late at night, when he was up giving Benjamin his three A.M. bottle he would talk to the baby, using it as a confessional of sorts, aided by the fact that, at weeks and months old, Ben neither understood what he was saying nor could he repeat it.

It was that freedom that allowed him to talk about his fears in a way he never did with Tris, to acknowledge how deeply he distrusted himself with this new life he held in his hands; how terrified he was that one day Ben would do something and he would just snap. Over time he grew more confident, grew to love his son in a way his fear wouldn't allow when he was first born, healed the wounds that Marcus left as much as anyone could.

Though Tris didn't hear all of those conversations, she heard a lot of them, silently listening and sometimes crying while Tobias thought she was asleep. She knows his fears are still there, somewhere deep down, but he doesn't let it control him anymore.

Tris smiles as Benjamin gives a surprised, playful shriek when Tobias picks him up with an arm around his middle. He effortlessly hoists him over his shoulder, carrying him out of the field in a fireman's carry while Ben demands, "down Daddy, put me down," between bright bursts of laughter.

For all his fears Tobias is a good father. Kind. Gentle. Patient. Things he struggled with before, but that are his first instinct when it comes to Benjamin. He can still be cruel and hard and demanding; still be 'Four', but not to her, and not to their baby. He's not a tyrant and not a bully like Marcus was.

Tris didn't need him to tell her he's different now, she can see it, every day. And besides he's allowed to grow up, to evolve because most people don't know what they want or what they're looking for until they find it. And he found something in Benjamin, they both did. But there's a hollowness too, something missing, something they're still looking or waiting for.

* * *

The motorcycle cost Tobias a case of liquor to buy and another to get it running. Alcohol and narcotics are really the only currency in a city where you get credits instead of cash. But as he runs his hands over the mottled chrome, faded black paint, and cracked leather he can't help thinking every sketchy, back-alley deal with the factionless to get it running was worth it. He screws the gas cap on tight, gives the saddle an affectionate pat, and goes to collect Tris. She knows about the bike, but she doesn't know that they're taking it out for it's inaugural ride.

When he gets to their apartment she's busy stuffing pajamas and every other thing he might possibly need into Benjamin's tiny backpack for his sleepover with Zoey. Ben's a ball of energy, bouncing around his room chattering on about how much fun they're going to have tonight. Tobias is just grateful his best friend understands the need to be a person sometimes, not a parent no matter how much he loves his son.

Twenty minutes later he's leading Tris into the warehouse Dauntless uses to store the solar powered cars they confiscated from Erudite and his motorcycle. "Really?" Tris asks, excitement lacing her voice when he climbs on the bike.

"Really," he says, patting the seat behind him, a smile splitting his face. "Come on."

Tobias smiles wider at the feel of Tris reflexively tightening her arms around him, molding her front to his back as they roar out of the garage. He goes steadily faster, watching the speedometer ratchet up until they're flying, leaving nothing but the mechanical symphony of a combustion engine and their shouts and laughter bouncing off the buildings beside them, behind them.

This is everything he loves about the trains; the speed, the feel of the wind pushing back, the freedom, always, especially, the freedom. Tris laughs giddily in his ear as they shoot out of the constructed canyons of the city to the muddy, deserted wasteland of the lakefront. The Hub stands stoically behind them as they follow the stretch of pavement that borders the shore, passing Erudite and shocked congregation of Dauntless and factionless standing sentry around it.

It feels like no time at all before they're out of the habitable part of the city, the tumbledown, abandoned buildings the only witness to their flight. The storefronts sag, the windows are thick with brown-grey grime reflecting opalescently in the sun where they're even present at all. Slowly, nature is reclaiming what originally belonged to it, vines pulling down stacked brick, poetic justice for a landscape molded and ruined by the hands of man.

They go further, past the buildings to where there's nothing but prairie grass tinted in the burnt browns and dessicated yellows of a long, hot summer boxing in the road. Tobias pulls over under a stand of ash trees thats roots reach down deep enough to keep the leaves green, if a little wilted.

"That is amazing," Tris says breathlessly, climbing off the bike on unsteady legs.

Tobias laughs, full throated and happy before climbing off himself and catching her in the snare of his arms. "Glad you like it."

"I_ love_ it," she enthuses.

They stomp down the grass and spread a blanket out in the dappled shade, comfortably reclining for an early dinner as the sun dips heavy in the west. Eventually Tobias ends up with his head pillowed on Tris' thighs, enjoying the way her fingers feel playing with his hair. The sun glints off the rough pieces of topaz - Benjamin's birthstone - worked into the simple braided leather bracelet wrapped around her wrist. It was a gift from Tobias on Ben's first birthday because it was a special day for her too.

"I can't believe Ben is starting kindergarten in a few weeks," Tobias murmurs.

"Time flies," Tris says absently. She takes a deep breath, surfacing from her thoughts. "Do you really think we're ready for all that again? Months of round-the-clock feedings; colic, teething, panicking over colds and ear infections."

"You know it's not just that," Tobias says softly, reminding her because this isn't the first time they've had this conversation.

"If I don't force myself to remember all of it, the good and the bad...," she trails off. But her mood shifts, a smile lighting up her face. "Do you remember when he walked for the first time?"

Tobias does. He cried. Just a few tears.

"Watching him fall and fail was so hard," she says, pain evident in her voice at the memory. "But he was so stubborn, so determined to walk over to you." They weren't the first steps Benjamin took, but they were the first ones he took on his own that covered any distance.

"I remember the first time he connected a name to a face. I don't remember where you coming home from, but when you walked in he pointed at you and said 'mama'," Tobias offers. "He was so pleased with himself; had a great big smile on his face."

"For a long time every crow he saw he called 'mama'," Tris says dryly. "Do you remember the first time he laughed?"

"Ugh... don't remind me," Tobias groans, hiding behind his hands. He had just finished giving Ben his nightly bath and got sidetracked talking to Tris, forgetting he hadn't yet put a fresh diaper the baby until he peed on him. Tris laughed so hard she cried and Benjamin picked that moment to mimic her behavior. "You gagged the first time you had to change a diaper," he retorts.

"Well it was nasty. All green and gooey," she says evenly. Truly, he can't blame her. They used to play rock-paper-scissors to decide who got to handle that delightful chore.

"That was still better than the last ear infection he had," Tobias says, suddenly somber. Ben was two years old and they treated the telltale fever and runny nose the same way they always did. Until it took a sudden and terrifying turn for the worse and they woke up in the middle of the night to Benjamin crying and a sea of vomit. He had to spend the night in the infirmary; a sleepless, stressful one for his parents.

Tris' hand drifts down to Tobias' chest, rubbing small circles over his heart. "He's so good though, I don't think I've ever even had to yell at him. I guess I'm just worried we won't be so lucky again."

"You think it's more nature than nurture?" Tobias asks because it's better than asking the other question perched on his tongue; whether she thinks he'd lose it with a difficult child. He doesn't want to know the answer to that, afraid she'll just confirm his worst fears.

"I don't know. Maybe," Tris shrugs. "If it is we'll have to find out the hard way, I guess."

As the first tendrils of twilight emerge in the eastern sky Tris nudges Tobias off her legs so she can lay down next to him. The grass is high enough that they're hidden by it. It's nice here, peaceful, listening to the bees buzz between the flowering weeds; the gentle rushing of the grass blown like waves by the wind, and the sound of squirrels skittering through the trees above them.

"What's your favourite thing?"

"About Ben? Teaching him. He's fascinated by the simplest things because it's all new to him, and when he discovers something he gets this look of incredible awe. It's amazing to watch," Tobias says without hesitation.

"I have an appointment at the Infirmary on monday for my birth control shot," Tris says, slow and uncertain. "Should I cancel it?"

Tobias rolls over, propping himself up on his elbows so he can see the seriousness in Tris' dirty ice eyes... and how she's nervously gnawing at her nail. His mouth feels dry and his tongue feels swollen and useless, unable to form words.

"We've talking about it before," Tris says in a rush, as if he's forgotten. "About it being 'the right time' once he's in school, or is this too soon?"

Tobias' heart slams against the cage of his ribs, frantic. He's not sure if it's from terror or elation. He licks his lips and swallows thickly and finally says, "cancel it."

For a second her expression is the happiest he thinks he's ever seen it. Then the fear comes. "Promise me," she chokes with the same manic desperation he did the night he tried to keep her from going to Erudite. "Promise me you'll always be here."

"I promise. Always," he vows, kissing the back of her hand, then the palm; her lips, her cheek, her neck, each kiss punctuating his promises of always. His fingers unthread the buttons of her shirt and his lips trail a path into the valley between her breasts to rest over her heart. "I promise, Tris. _Always_."


End file.
